Pieces of Us
by Composer of Discord
Summary: Justice League Gods and Monsters: Kirk is recruited by the government to work on a confidential project. Desperate to find a cure for his cancer, he accepts only to find what he was testing was whom he was testing. By then, he couldn't turn back. What's done is done as he struggles to undo the mess he's made. (Hernan Guerra/Kirk Langstrom) warnings inside
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I would like to give a huge thanks to my partner for this bang, the artists, SDeeyS. Without her, this fic would have never been written. Even after it was, she remained my cheerleader, throughout the entire process and I cannot thank her enough. Also the art, PLEASE look at it if you have not already. It is extraordinary, and I hope this fic lives up to it. I'd also like to thank my wonderful betas. The first is a dear friend of mine who read over the first part and made it so your heads don't spin with too much science, or your heart feel weighed down by the heaviness this story used to have. Her review was, "I feel like I've been dragged through sandpaper". Hopefully we've fixed that. My second beta, Dippkip, thank you so much for taking on such a large project last minute. I loved your notes, and this fic is much better thanks to you. Lastly, I'd like to thank the mod!squad of the SBB and the SBB chat. You guys have helped me through so much without knowing it. I really hopes this fic lives up to your expectations. Nonetheless, I'll stop lamenting before the waterworks start. From the bottom of my heart, thank you so much to everyone that has supported me and this fic. I hope you enjoy.

P.S. I'm very sorry if any of this looks weird. This was first posted on AO3 a while back and just now am I trying to transfer my works from there onto here. AO3 warnings listed below, please heed them before continuing on:

Use of strong language (not a lot), Canon-Typical Violence, graphic depictions of blood, Depressive Thoughts, Mentions of attempted suicide, depicted body wounds, Cancer (lymphoma), visually-impaired character (minor), Imprisonment, implied nonconsensual experimentation, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, First Meetings, Slow Burn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Heavy Angst but worth it... hopefully, Unresolved Sexual Tension

* * *

-Part 1-

It was a bad idea. It was a mistake. Kirk should have known the minute he had walked into those impeccably white halls. He should have known when he first heard the proposal, by the way her tenacious eyes never left his for a moment, or by the way the heavy weight of the pen felt wrong in his hands when he signed his name to who he would later find out was the devil.

He should have known all of this but he didn't. He couldn't. His naiveté blindsided him to what the world really had to offer, which was nothing but suffering. The world was unfair, and Kirk was desperate. The disease was progressing at a faster rate than predicted, and his experiments continued to end in failure one after another. He needed a solution, he needed a cure, and fast. And so, desperate to save his life, he signed a way his soul.

Looking back on it now, he did not think much when he signed upon the dotted line. He only thought it was natural. It was human nature to want to preserve one's life. Isn't that what governments were built for? Isn't that what some bigwig old man tried to spin logic into? It's human nature to want to live, and therefore Kirk shouldn't be ashamed, but he was. He is. As soon as those otherworldly eyes met his, he knew this was not what he signed his life away for.

But it was too late. When you find yourself in a shitty situation, ironically it is always too late to turn back. Oh, how Kirk wanted to go back, to challenge time and unwind it. Even if it would lead him to his death bed, anything was better than this. Anything was better than this unquenchable desire, this never-ending search, this thirst for blood.

He was a monster.

-Three Years Ago-

"Kirk!" an arm was thrown around his neck, dragging him to collide into none other than his best friend.

"We did it!" his friend shouted.

"Yes, we sure did," Kirk agreed as he tried to untangle himself from his friend. Luckily, his friend felt merciful and let him go.

With a furl of his graduation robe, he bowed deeply. "Why thank you, thank you. On this joyous day, I'd like to thank Wikipedia and Yahoo Answers for always pulling through at 3am."

"And your girlfriend."

Kirk couldn't help but smile at the sight of Will's girlfriend, Tina, standing beside them with both hands on her hips: a clear sign that she was about to lay down the law and knock some sense into these two incorrigible two-year olds.

William spun on his heel to offer Tina a cheeky grin. "How could I forget? I am most grateful for my beautiful," he leaned in to kiss her cheek, "smart," he placed another on her nose, "incredible…"

"Oh my god, Will!" Tina laughed.

"Fiancé." Will ended with a chaste kiss upon her lips, and for some reason, something about the word made Kirk's chest clench.

"How I ever said yes, I will never know," Tina teased back. She caressed Will's cheek for a moment before detaching herself and turning her attentions upon Kirk.

"And don't forget Mr. Valedictorian here. If I do recall, you've copied his homework oh… about a million times?"

"More like 4 million times," Kirk braved to say. "One million for each year."

"Ouch. You two wound me. I do have one or two brain cells left."

"Just one?" Tina arched a challenging brow. Kirk looked equally unimpressed.

"Fine, half," Will conceded. "But hey, C's get degrees, and look what I've got Mom and Dad!"

Will brandished his diploma before the two, doubting faces before rushing Tina and twirling her around. The corner of Kirk's lips curved into a small lopsided grin at Will's antics. He was always loud, always cheerful, always optimistic, and that smile… Kirk tried to mentally shake such thoughts away. He had spent too many study nights brooding upon the thought of Will's bright smile, and Tina's infectious laughter. They really were made for each other.

"Excuse me, Mr. Langstrom?" Kirk whirled around to see Alexander Luthor, the man who made his research, and the privilege of attending such an elite college without landing himself in massive debt possible.

"M-Mr. Luthor." Kirk couldn't help but stumble over his words as well as his feet to shake the man's hand. Despite the other's apparent social awkwardness, Mr. Luthor only laughed it off. He had spent his fair share of time in labs, and knew how even the most brilliant of minds tended to be graceless.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. Thank you so much for this great opportunity. I don't know where I would be without it."

"You're very welcome. I like to do everything I can when I run across talent such as yours."

"Thank you, Sir."

"You're welcome." Luthor repeated once more before glancing over to his companion. Only then, did Kirk see her. She came from nowhere, as if she appeared from thin air, although perhaps it was Kirk's fault. He was most likely too busy being self-depreciating to have noticed her. However, the look in her dark eyes was hard to miss once they locked onto you. They were dark, predatory in the way her head seemed to be angled to the side as if in contemplation of whether the lanky man before her was worth her time.

Kirk swallowed.

"Mr. Langstrom, I'd like to introduce you to a good friend of mine, Amanda Waller. I was telling her all about your outstanding achievements, only for her to beg me to introduce you two. So, here we are. Amanda," Luthor offered a congenial smile to her, "Here is my prodigy, Mr. Kirk Langstrom."

Amanda smiled, though her smile wasn't directed towards Luthor but Kirk. Her eyes never left his, which made Kirk feel like a test subject instead of the scientist he just earned a degree to become.

"It's a pleasure, Mr. Langstrom." she held out her hand for the other to shake.

"Oh no, the pleasure is all mine." Kirk met her hand with his. Her hand was freezing.

"Mr. Langstrom, I'll be quite frank with you. I am putting together a team of top scientists to work on confidential government research, and I'd be delighted to have you on my team."

Kirk blinked. What?

The corners of her lips curled further at the dumbfounded look Kirk was sporting, but Kirk could hardly be blamed. He had just graduated, and here he was being recruited by the government.

Kirk already had a number of job offers lined up, but because of his condition, he never got back to any of them. Also, none of them wanted to fund his research since they found his proposal preposterous. Saliva from a bat to cure lymphoma? Impossible, they all told him, and thinking back upon his most recent failures, perhaps they were all right.

Regretfully, Kirk said, "I'm quite humbled to have you recruit me in person, Ms. Waller, but I'm afraid I will have to turn you down."

"Oh?" a dark brow rose in what seemed to be a mock of disbelief. "Here," Amanda withdrew a thin white card from her pocket and held it out for Kirk to take. "Call me when you want to cure Lymphoma, Mr. Langstrom. I hope you won't keep me waiting for long."

Kirk dropped the card suddenly as if it had physically shocked him as much as her words did. He could practically hear her unspoken reminder that he did not have much time left, but how would she know that?

Kirk bent down to pick up the card he had dropped, and when he looked up, she was gone like some apparition that was never there to begin with, a nightmare. And yet the card felt smooth between his fingers. It was white with large contrasting black letters with her name clearly printed across the front. It was the only piece of evidence he had to prove that she wasn't just a figment of his imagination.

The card was real. She was real. Then her offer… was that real too?

"Kirk! Hey Kirk!"

Kirk flinched back at the hand that suddenly waved in his face. Glancing up, he saw Will there looking a little more than confused, and by the slight furrow of the man's brows, probably a little annoyed as well. Tina just looked worried, but she was always worried when it came to Kirk.

"Dude, what the hell was that about?" Will was the first to speak, as usual.

"I… I don't know," Kirk answered truthfully. Will eyed Kirk warily, as if trying to sense any hint of a lie, while Tina detached herself from Will's arm to stand beside Kirk so she could get a better look at the card.

"I don't know either, Kirk, but she didn't seem like the friendliest person." Tina gently tugged the card from Kirk's hands so she could get a better look at it. Will rushed to join too.

As Kirk's friends scrutinized the business card down to every inch, he couldn't help but let his mind wander upon Waller's offer. She wanted him to cure cancer. She knew he had cancer. She knew his life was a ticking bomb, and she offered him the job nonetheless. No employer in their right mind would offer him a job if they knew he might not last the first week.

Kirk took a deep breath. No, he had longer than that. Although the incessant ticking of a clock inside his head told him otherwise, he knew he had to have more than that. Which begged the question: what could the research be that the government would be this desperate to have him? Some part of Kirk wanted to find out, while his more rational side told him he shouldn't.

"I wouldn't do it," Will announced emphatically as he went to rip the card in half.

"Will! Give me that!" Tina took it before Will could do anything, and held it out for Kirk to take again. "It's Kirk's choice. He can decide what he wants to do."

However, the tenacious look in Tina's eyes when she looked at Kirk said otherwise. She, being the wisest of all three of them, would decide.

"I agree that there's something off about her, but Kirk, if she'll fund your research—"

"Screw the funding! We don't need it."

' _Yes we do, Will.'_ Kirk wanted to say, but like with most conversations between him and Will, it was very one-sided. If they disagreed, then Kirk might as well go argue with a wall because Will would have none of it.

"I'm already making progress with my nanotech. If I could just…" Will grunted in frustration. "I'll have the nanotech completed soon, Kirk. With your research combined with my technology, I know we can find a cure." The phrase 'In time' was more than implied, but never said. Tina had yelled at Will enough times for it to finally get it through his thick skull to think before speaking.

Nonetheless, even if Kirk had his doubts, seeing the look of absolute determination on the two people he loved most in the world, he couldn't help but believe their words.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right, Will." Kirk glanced down at the card one last time before he ripped it in two. "We'll do this our way."

* * *

The next few days, Kirk and Will worked relentlessly side by side to perfect Will's nanotech with Kirk's research on vampire bats. Their experiments seemed more promising with each passing day, although Will couldn't see the swollen glands Kirk hid beneath his lab coat. He couldn't see the swelling of his ankles, nor did he notice the way Kirk notched his belt a little tighter with each passing week. Will didn't notice how Kirk's skin seem to be prickled by goosebumps due to the chill of the room, or was that just Kirk?

Kirk chanced a look over at Will only to see his friend wipe the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. Yes, it was only him that felt cold.

"How are you doing buddy?" Will smiled brightly over at Kirk when he caught him looking.

"Well, going over the data, the antibodies extracted from the vampire bat saliva have tested positive in attacking the cancer, and your nanites have shown to produce and multiply healthy white and red blood cells. However, the nanites' sensory mechanisms seem to need further programing. They do not know when to stop, and thus come to create a new kind of cancer on their own. I think if we only had more time we could—"

"I'll do it." Will cut Kirk off. Kirk went to say it was fine, though the words died when he saw the look on Will's face. Will's lips were thinned, no longer smiling but rather the corners of them were dragged down by frustration – by words Will wanted to spew but schooled himself not to for Kirk's sake.

Kirk wanted to reach out, and run his thumb against the worrying crease between Will's brows like a stubborn wrinkle that didn't belong there.

"Will," Kirk began lightly, "It's okay. You don't have to—"

"No! It's not okay, Kirk!" he slammed his fist against the counter causing test tubes to rattle in their wake, and substances to ripple in their flasks. Kirk was just as shaken by the sudden outburst as he realized he had taken a step back.

Those thinned lips of what used to be frustration were now pulled back into a monstrous snarl like the jowls of cornered mutt. His bright warm eyes were wild, and his breath ragged.

As if approaching a rabid or wounded animal, Kirk warily reached out to the stranger before him. This wasn't Will. This couldn't be Will. Will was always smiling, always making a joke, always optimistic. He and Tina were his light during times of darkness, and now… now more than ever he needed that light.

Kirk reached out for Will. He reached for what he needed most, not realizing his own breaths were fast. Too fast.

"Kirk? Kirk!"

His hand never made it.

* * *

"How could you have not—"

 _Beep_

"You know he's—"

 _Beep_

"You think I don't know—"

 _Beep_

"Don't ever think that I—"

 _Beep_

"Don't ever question—"

 _Beep_

"Kirk? Kirk, how are you feeling?"

Weary eyes glanced up at the incessant beeping of his heart monitor before looking over at Tina leaning over him. Worry was evident in her blue eyes as her warm fingers intertwined with his.

"We're going to get through this okay?"

"My god! Tina, he's not going to die! Stop talking to him like he's on his deathbed." Will raised his voice, causing dark brows to furrow at the sudden onslaught of pounding at the back of his head.

"Please, Will. Not here; not now." Tina relaxed her jaw before turning back to Kirk. It was a subtle shifting of her features, but Kirk caught it nonetheless by the way her thinned pressed lips relaxed into a small smile. She always smiled. Always.

A sudden movement caught Kirk's eye as he glanced behind Tina's shoulder to find Will. His hands were folded behind his neck, and his head bowed to the ground. He paced slowly, circling in Kirk's line of vision until he was gone. Will hadn't left the room. Kirk was sure, but he had left his line of sight, and something about not being able to see Will left a heavy weight upon his chest.

Here were the two people he loved the most in the world. Tina and Will had stuck by Kirk's side through thick and thin when no one else would or has. Not even Kirk's parents were there, and he doubted they would ever show. Nonetheless, Tina remained ever patient and kind, a steady rock which Kirk could stand on, could anchor himself to. And Will… Will was always hopeful. He never let Kirk doubt that he wouldn't defeat this, and now looking at Tina's eyes, and Will… Will not being able to look at him, not being able to accept the truth that his friend was dying… no, Kirk couldn't do this to them. He couldn't hurt them more than he already had.

With greater effort than he expected, Kirk resolved himself to move.

"Please, don't strain yourself." Tina said gently, but Kirk continued to do so. He didn't like going against Tina, but he had to. He had to see them both for what he was going to say.

However, he feared that the trembling of his arms as he pushed himself up were drowning out the words he had yet to say, but needed to. Once he righted himself, he tried not to lean his head back out of exhaustion, or take too long to catch his breath for his silence was also telling. Their silence was telling.

Finally.

"Will, Tina…" Kirk paused, glancing between the two as he noted how Tina visibly stiffened, and how Will's shoulders had risen slightly and his fists clenched tighter on either side of him as if preparing himself for a fight. Yes, Will did fight with Kirk. Will fought with everyone and everything, and Kirk had always easily backed down, but not this time. This time Will would have to listen, and by the way Will finally turned to face him, Kirk knew that Will had already figured out what he was going to say.

Regardless, Kirk was just as determined as he continued. "I… I cannot begin to express how grateful and lucky I am to have you two in my life. You both mean the world to me, and I… I don't know where I'd be… how I would have…"

A gentle hand came to cup his cheek as Tina ran her thumb carefully over the tracks Kirk's tears had made. He had not realized he was crying until Tina had touched him.

She touched him. With her warm fingers, and gentle broken smile, she touched his very soul.

"You don't have to," Tina simply said at last, though Kirk heard the slight tremor in her voice, and noticed the way her eyes were glazed with unshed tears. "You don't have to explain anything."

With that, Tina came to wrap her arms around Kirk. She held him close. She held him close enough for Kirk to smell the familiar scent of her perfume, a smell he had come to associate with warmth. She was close enough for Kirk to hear the trembling of her breath, and feel the dampness of her tears he did not see fall. She was so close to him, and held on so tightly it was clear she had no intentions of letting go, but she had to. Kirk had to. And yet neither of them were ready.

Kirk feared they never would be.

"No." Kirk stiffened at the sudden outburst, as did Tina. Kirk looked up to see Will standing at the foot of his bed. His hands were balled into the pockets of his jacket, and his head bowed though Kirk could still make out the hardness around the other's mouth.

"No, I think you have a lot of explaining to do." Will's eyes met Kirk's. Kirk felt the air in his lungs suddenly leave him by the look of pure disdain that filled those once joyful gaze of his best friend.

"You…" Will seethed. "After all those late nights we've spent together. After all the drinks and jokes we've shared. The… How dare you just give up!"

"Will!" Tina untangled herself from Kirk as she swiftly moved to placate her fiancé, but Will held a hand out to stop her from coming any closer to him. All the while, he never broke his gaze from Kirk. His features were still marred with bitter rancor.

"No, Tina, I am so goddamn sick and tired of this. Of all this… all this bullshit! You're not dying Kirk, so don't you dare say it was nice knowing me. You're going to know me for a fucking long time because we're going to fight this. We're going to fight this, dammit! And if you're not, then I am." Will slammed his foot against the side of the bed, causing the entire bed to shake and Kirk with it.

"Fuck you and fuck this! I don't have time for this. Go fucking mourn over the time wasted while I go find a cure." Will fixed Kirk with a final look before he left Kirk's line of sight. He left the room.

"Will!" Tina yelled after him, but he wasn't coming back. Kirk knew it.

"Kirk? Kirk, look at me," Tina urged her friend from his stupor, but Kirk only shook his head.

"Please, Tina. Go after him. He needs you more than I do."

"Fuck him. No, he doesn't."

Kirk was momentarily surprised by her sudden outburst, but he pressed on.

"Tina, please, do it for me. I would do it myself, but I'm afraid I'd never catch him in time."

Tina bit her bottom lip, wanting to stay with Kirk, but also knowing that no matter what Will had said to Kirk, or the way he acted, he too was in pain. However, seeing the evident hurt in Kirk's eyes, Tina finally nodded.

"Okay, but I'll be right back, okay? I'm not leaving you," Tina promised before running after her stubborn fiancé. Kirk watched her go.

It was done.

There were still things Kirk wanted to say, things he wanted to do, but he should have known Will wouldn't have let him. Some part of Kirk hated him for it, and yet another part of him, the part that made his chest ache with every shuddering thud of his heart, loved that stubborn, pig-headed nature of his best friend.

Will refused to stop, and Kirk loved him for it.

Meanwhile, Tina had held him. She embraced him with more warmth and love than anyone else has ever given to him. Perhaps that was sad, or people would feel bad for Kirk, but Kirk wasn't sorry at all. He would never come to regret the way Tina looked at him, or touched him with the constant reassurance that she loved and cared for him. Although the way she had held onto him just now, tighter than she ever had before, made the weight upon Kirk's heart even heavier.

Both Tina and Will refused to let go despite how much Kirk pleaded with them. They clung to his heart like two anchors on a sinking ship.

"Oh, you're awake."

Kirk glanced up at the sudden voice. He relaxed once he saw that it was only a nurse. She greeted him with a kind smile and an armful of purple flowers.

"These just came for you," she said as she caught Kirk's glance. Thankfully she did not note Kirk's red-rimmed eyes, nor the puffiness that seemed to swell around upset cheeks and nose. She also didn't say a word about the shouting that she undoubtedly heard.

Instead, she placed the flowers by Kirk's bedside, noted Kirk's various monitors and gave him some much-needed time alone. Kirk needed to be alone. Although Will and Tina thought otherwise, Kirk needed space to think, to reassemble himself, to mourn… himself?

No, Will was right. Kirk wasn't done yet. He still wanted to fight this, but he could not fight it with Will or Tina. As much as both wanted to help him, Kirk didn't have the heart to drag them along.

But enough. He had brooded over the subject long enough. To distract himself from such thoughts, he glanced over at the purple flowers looming over him. Kirk would have thought they were from Tina, but he imagined Will would have called her right away, and thus she wouldn't have wasted any time in getting to the hospital. Even after her arrival, Tina wasn't the kind of person to stray far from Kirk just in case something happened. She would have stayed close to his bedside, or paced endlessly back and forth in the waiting room.

No, they couldn't have been from her, nor from Will. Will wasn't a flower kind of guy as far as Kirk knew. So, who could have sent them? Surely not his parents. No, they wouldn't waste money on such trivial things.

Finally, at last with curiosity gnawing on his bones, he slowly reached for them. The delicate petals caressed his fingers as he found the card tucked away behind their purple hoods.

The first thing he noticed were the giant, smooth black letters that seemed to slither their way across a clean, white expanse. It was light in his hand, but the familiarity of it weighed heavy on his mind.

He knew this card. He had seen it before, and never did he think he'd see it again.

A chill ran up his spine. She knew. Somehow, she knew the impossible, or was she watching him? Had she kept her eyes on him since the first day they met? Did she know the fate of the first card?

Kirk wanted to say no one would go to such great lengths, but remembering the way those dark eyes looked at him, he knew.

Such a fact should make him rip up this card too, but his thumb continued to run across the dark letters. It rubbed against the "A" as if he could wipe it from existence – as if this card was nothing but a drug induced nightmare. But it remained. The card remained firm in his hand with the black letters stubbornly pressing against his fingers.

Kirk almost found himself laughing at the irony of it all, but the sound never made it past his lips. It didn't even begin to rumble in his chest or tickle the tip of his spine. All he could muster was a slow exhale, and then a deep breath.

As ironic as it was, Kirk knew as well as those black letters pressing against his fingers of what he should do. They knew what he was going to do. He was going to do the unthinkable.


	2. Chapter 2

The windows were opaque black. He could not see anything of the outside world, which after all the different scenarios he had ran through his head the night before, he supposed he should be thankful for. He had imagined his hands tied, and a heavy bag thrown over his head, or his eyes blindfolded, or perhaps both. It was that of a hostage situation, except Kirk wasn't bound or gagged, or even knocked out.

He was awake. He was fully conscious meaning it was his choice to step into the black limousine. No one had forced him or shoved him in. No one threw him into the car saying he had to go. He threw himself in with eyes wide open. If only his conscience, or more so his heart, was inside the car as much as he physically was. He feared he might have left his heart behind on the side walk leading up to the car, or perhaps at his front door step when he left that morning, or even at the other end of the line when he finally made the call.

He could not say for sure, although he tried to rationalize with himself. There was no other way. No other option but this one. He did everything he could think of, but all windows of opportunity closed on him without opening two more in their place or even one. This was the only window left, and Kirk had to take it. As uncertain as it was, Kirk had to keep moving forward, moving somewhere. He wasn't going to give up. Not on himself, nor on Will and Tina.

However, as much as he loved them both, Kirk knew the only path left was that of solitude. He wouldn't continue to drag them down with him. They did not deserve that. They did not have to be pained for his sake. They've suffered enough. The scene at the hospital was proof. Kirk had seen the hurt in Tina's eyes, and heard the painful tightness of Will's voice.

No, he could not put them through any more trouble than he had already. He loved them too much to pain them any further, and so Kirk began walking a new path by himself.

With every step he took, he wanted to take several steps back, but the thought of Tina and Will kept him moving forward. He wouldn't give up. He would fight this.

The car made a sharp turn, causing Kirk to suddenly grab the side of the door for balance.

Where was he going? How far were they going? How long would it take?

Kirk wondered absently whether the sky would be as cloudy as it was in Gotham. The skies were always some gradient of gray, or as black and opaque as the windows of the car that shadowed him from the outside world.

At last, after what seemed like hours, the car slowed to a stop. Kirk wondered whether it was because of another supposed red stop light, or whether they had finally made it. By the sound of the ignition being cut off the car door opening, Kirk imagined it was the latter rather than the former.

As relieved as he was, he also found his stomach tied in knots, or perhaps that was just his fingers laced together in his lap. He twiddled his thumbs, and tightened his grip before loosening.

Footsteps echoed beside the car, and Kirk followed them with every shuddering thud of his rapidly beating heart.

Before the footsteps could complete their journey around the car, the other side door opened, causing Kirk to nearly jump out of his skin.

"This way, please, Sir," said a voice that had no face, or at least not one Kirk could see from his current angle. The fact made him even less inclined to get out of the car, along with the fact that the light outside of it seemed… unnatural. Were they inside a garage?

"Please," again, the voice prompted, but this time it was accompanied by a rather insufferable sigh that jumpstarted Kirk's nerves as he shuffled his way to the other side of the car and got out.

There, he finally saw the face that belonged to the beckoning voice. The man was tall, or at least taller than Kirk, with a thin impassive face.

Nonetheless, Kirk tried to offer a small smile, though before he could thank the other for opening the door, his attention was drawn to a light 'ding' that sounded a few feet away from the two of them.

"Mr. Langstrom." her authoritative voice easily crossed the great distance between. Kirk watched in surprise as Amanda Waller made her presence known.

She was dressed in in a dark simple feminine suit that was clearly tailored to her dimensions, or at least it seemed so by the way her suit jacket flared behind her with each and every powerful step she took.

Her dark hair was severely pulled back into a bun with not one single strand of hair out of place, and her lips slightly colored pink as if to make her look more approachable. As far as Kirk was concerned, it wasn't working.

He found himself standing straighter in her presence. The corners of his lips were forced into a polite smile, and his hands were beside him where she could see them. However, Kirk wanted to hide them in his pockets so she wouldn't see them shake or twitch in the air, useless with nothing to occupy them.

She shifted her small stack of manila folders to one arm before steadily extending her hand out to shake.

Kirk did so, noting how the firmness of her grip did not change from the first time they met.

"Mr. Langstrom, I hope your trip wasn't too arduous."

"No, it was fine, thank you."

"Good, I'm glad to hear it. Now, please, if you would follow me." Waller easily pivoted on her heel and began to make her way to the elevator she had just arrived in. Kirk followed after her. Even though he wasn't given much time to look around, there wasn't much to see. He really was in a garage. It was all concrete with dim lighting and cinder block pillars. There wasn't any other cars either. There was just the one that brought him.

The elevator doors easily slid open with a swipe of her card and the glaring LED lights inside were nearly blinding. Kirk found himself squinting when he followed her in, slowly opening his eyes wider as they adjusted to the light.

Waller gave a slight huff of a laugh when she noted Kirk's expression, though the tone of her voice remained nothing but professional.

"I would give you a more comprehensive tour, Mr. Langstrom, but as we both well know, time is of the essence. Here, this is your file." she handed him a folder which Kirk accepted without hesitation. Something of her tone seemed to ease his nerves as he reminded himself this was nothing but a job. He didn't have time to waste jumping at nonexistent shadows.

"Inside you will find your ID and keycard. The keycard will allow you to access this elevator and the floor in which you will be working on: number 4." Kirk glanced over at the elevator panel. He noted there were 16 floors going up, and several B level floors going down, but only one was of his concern. "Should you try to reach another floor, the elevator will not allow you, so don't even think about it."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Please, it's Waller."

"Yes, Ms. Waller," Kirk repeated before the elevator slowed to a stop on the fourth floor. Waller easily stepped out first, and didn't even bother looking over her shoulder to check if Kirk followed. Kirk followed nonetheless.

"Down that hall there is a small kitchenette you may use at your discretion. Lunch and dinner menus will be given to you each morning when you arrive. Mark what you wish, and you will find it waiting for you there. We also have a room with a bed should you wish to stay the night," Waller explained. "Bathroom is right next to the lab. Here is the room which you may stay in, and down the hall here, is where you'll be spending most of your time."

Kirk entered the lab after her, and found himself surprised once more, but pleasantly so. The lab was large with more counter space than Kirk could ever wish for, and with more technical machines tucked away here and there than he had seen concentrated in one space.

"I hope you find everything to your liking. Should you need anything, please do not hesitate to say so." Amanda set down the rest of her files that were in her arms. "Here you will find all the notes and research other scientists before you have compiled, and continue to add to. I know there is a lot to sift through, but I hope you can do it promptly."

Kirk eyed the files as it was sizeable but also… questionable. What was he working on? Waller had never explained it to him, and judging by the way her dark eyes flickered to the door, she wasn't going to.

"Before you set eyes on them, I must have you take a look at this." she opened the first file to withdraw a document. "This here is your contract. In it is everything we've discussed on the phone earlier. Once you've signed it, you may get straight to work." she produced a pen from within her inner jacket pocket and placed it on top of the contract before sliding it over to Kirk.

Kirk took a moment to look over the contract. He swiftly went over the words to see that everything for the most part seemed standard when it came to doing research for a company. The only difference was the way she had bolded confidentiality clauses and the possible repercussion he may face if he should break it.

Meanwhile, Waller had stayed silent the entire time. She offered no other words of reassurance nor did she fidget or sigh in impatience. Instead her dark eyes remained on him, calculative, sharp, and all knowing. It was as if she had already seen through him. She had seen and foretold the paths which Kirk would take, and thus knew he would sign it.

Kirk did. Although the pen felt heavy in his hands, and his signature marked with permanent ink, it was done.

"Thank you, Mr. Langstrom." Waller wasted no time in taking the contract back, and filing it away with what Kirk imaged was with many others. "I wish you luck with your research, and again if you need anything, please ask."

"Yes, thank you, Ms. Waller."

She gave him a curt nod before she was off, leaving Kirk with a pile of new files to sift through and a whole floor to himself.

Well…

Kirk gave his surroundings one final look to ground himself, to remind himself that he was here, and this indeed was real. He had made his choice and therefore he must see it through, and so he grabbed the first file and began reading the first page.

* * *

Kirk had lost track of the hours, the days that had passed since he signed the contract. He had yet to return home. He spent the entirety of the first day sifting through the various files he was given, and then proceeded to spend the rest of the night deciphering the notes and trying to make logic of them.

True to her word, Waller had made sure there was always food for Kirk in the small tea pantry which consisted of an old fridge in the corner that had an old post-it note warning: "NO EXPERIMENTS IN THE FREEZER". The note made Kirk smile. It reminded him of his college days when Tina yelled at him for keeping some blood samples in the fridge or Will keeping some of his bugs in the freezer.

However, he shook the memory away before he could linger upon it for too long.

Beside the fridge, was a small coffee maker with a bag of fresh ground coffee beside it and mugs in the cupboards that had collected dust. Will would most likely make use of the coffee Kirk thought, while he should stay away from it since caffeine wasn't good with meds. Actually, most of the things Kirk was doing wasn't good for his heath, but he tried not to linger on that either.

In the fridge were all his meals, and a microwave to heat them if he wished. Kirk wondered who placed them there. Who took his orders in the morning, and dropped them off? Maybe one day he'd run across them so he could thank them, but so far Kirk hadn't run into another living soul. It seemed he had the entire floor to himself which Kirk also tried not to linger on, nor did he have much time to.

He was buried under his pile of work. All the lab surfaces were taken up by notes, test tubes, and his newly acquired bats Waller had sent him so he could continue to work his own research project of a cure.

His meal in the fridge was his only reminder that he was not the only person in the facility. That was, until Kirk was making his way down the hall to his lab with a pile of notes he had been reading over when he saw someone. Outside his window there was a man.

The man was standing by himself. His hands were folded behind his back and head raised towards the sun so that the rays may caress his sallow, bearded face. The scene made Kirk stop in his tracks – not because this was the first person he was seeing since Waller, but because of the man's expression. It was that of pure serenity, if only for a moment. It was the calm before a storm, or perhaps a man reaching water after days of not seeing a single drop of it.

Kirk had never seen someone thirst for sunlight before – it reminded him of Icarus, a young man who loved the sun too much. He was the young dreamer who craved to bathe in its warmth but when he got too close, he was burned. Days before that fateful flight, did Icarus look at the sun the way this man did with his head raised and eyes closed?

"Oi, that's enough!" came a shout from someone Kirk couldn't see. The man was not alone. Several people approached him. Two wore clean pressed lab coats much like Kirk's own while the other five wore bulky padded dark armor and helmets that came to shield their faces.

Nonetheless, the man paid them little heed for a moment or two longer before slowly turning to face them. Dark, ragged strands of hair came to obscure his features as he walked forward towards the building with surprisingly bare feet.

What was going on? Who was he? Was he a prisoner? Did they keep such subjects here?

When the man was no longer in sight, Kirk moved to enter his labs once more, but the image of the man thirsting for sunlight still lingered on his mind. He knew this was a government research facility, but he didn't think of it being a prison too. Or was the man not a prisoner? But then if he wasn't, why was he being monitored by men in armor?

Kirk knew he should stop questioning such things. It was better to keep his head down and worry about his own matters, but there seemed to be so much secrecy – so many smokes and mirrors around this place it was hard to keep track of what was left and what was right.

However, before he could ponder the issue any further, there was a knock on his door followed by the clicking sound of heels across smooth tile.

"Mr. Langstrom."

"Ms. Waller." Kirk straightened himself as Waller approached his work station.

"I hope I didn't interrupt anything here."

"No, I was just…" Kirk glanced down at the notes he had been working on over breakfast before he got side tracked by the spectacle outside his windows. "I was going over the genomic sequence of the blood sample once more in comparison to subject A and B's genome. Even though a great deal of it seems to be similar, there are sections such as the ones here that don't seem to add up in terms of nucleic acid patterns typically found in humans. Almost as if… it's comprised of completely different bases themselves." As if they aren't part of this planet, Kirk wanted to say but didn't.

As far as he and every biology textbook out there was concerned, there were only five nucleic acid bases that varied in pattern from person to person and species. The genome he was in charge of researching though was different. It was as if the scientists before him tried to replace the foreign sequences with human DNA, but the vectors never worked, and the parts rejected.

When he glanced up, those dark eyes were watching him critically once more, though the line of her mouth tugged in a way that looked like she wanted to say something, but wasn't sure whether she would have the authorization to do so.

Finally, she said, "Yes, the DNA you are sequencing is unlike anything we have seen before, which is why you can understand the reason for its confidentiality. Nonetheless, your current concern is finding the sequence which is responsible for its invulnerable properties, and seeing if you can replicate it for healing properties for humans. You can understand what such a discovery could mean for medical science – how many cancer victims such as yourself could benefit from technology such as this."

Kirk swallowed. Yes, he knew what such a discovery could do for people like him. Although at the same time, remembering what this could mean for him, for his condition, made the clock ticking in the room even more prominent in his ears.

"Well," Waller began as if noticing the sudden shift in the room, "I'll let you get back to work then."

"Excuse me, Ms. Waller. Before you go, may I ask whether you have a DNA sequencer by chance?"

Waller paused for a moment as her dark irises remained fixed on Kirk.

"Yes, we do. How long do you think you will need access to it?"

"I'm not sure. Hopefully only a week at most," Kirk replied. "Although I might have to use it again after the first analysis comes in."

"I see, very well then. The sequencer is on floor B5. I'll make sure your card has access to it by this evening. Is that all?"

"Yes, thank you."

Waller gave Kirk a brief nod before exiting the lab and leaving Kirk completely alone once more.

* * *

As promised, the button for B5 lit up as Kirk traveled down several floors in the elevator he surprisingly hadn't been in since the first day he arrived. He hadn't gone home for he was buried with work, but another part of him knew there was another reason why he hadn't gone home yet.

Before he could linger on the subject any further, the elevator slowed to a stop with a 'ding', signaling his arrival to the new destination – another part of the building he had never seen before.

As the door parted, he was met with a long hallway with blank walls faded white due to age. The lights were harshly bright, and the floor aluminum tiled.

The hallway was almost identical to his own save for the windows he had, the only way he could tell whether it was night or day. Also by the fact that he could see the end of his hallway which were the doors to his labs. This hallway almost seemed to go on forever.

"Stop right there."

Kirk nearly tripped and dropped all the samples he wanted to test when a sudden voice halted him from taking another step. The man was dressed in black with a bullet proof vest and a dark baseball cap. The brim of the cap obscured his features, although Kirk could make out hard blue eyes glaring back at him.

"ID," he ordered, stirring Kirk from his stupor. Kirk fumbled for his ID card. As soon as it was produced, it was snatched away. Blue eyes scanned it with great scrutiny before the man gave Kirk a curt nod of what Kirk hoped was approval before handing it back to him.

"Evening, Mr. Langstrom. Waller informed me of your estimated arrival, and asked me escort you to the sequencer."

"Thank—"

"Please, follow me," the man interjected while pivoting on his heel down the hall. Kirk rushed to keep up.

The man was not one for words which Kirk didn't mind. It allowed him time to look at the various placards that labeled the doors as they passed. None of them had names of people or even objects, but just numbers.

'B5-002, B5-003, etc…'

They reached two double doors that the man used his own key pass to access. On the other side, they met two more men dressed similarly in black with what looked like padded bullet proof vests.

The doors that lined the halls on either side of them were iron instead of wood, as the walls themselves looked like they were made of steel. The ceiling lights were dim, and the floor concrete.

A shiver ran up Kirk's spine. His mind raced back to the image of the man he had seen earlier that day, dressed in a beige jumpsuit, and hair long and ragged. Was he behind one of these doors? Was he rattling away for reasons unknown to Kirk – for reasons only Waller most likely knew?

"Keep up," the man admonished Kirk. He hadn't realized his pace had slowed, but as soon as the other yelled at him, Kirk hurried his step until he was right on the man's heels again.

"Stay close, and keep your head down," the man ordered which Kirk returned with a small nod, but didn't offer anything more. He knew if he said anything else, the words would go unheard.

Kirk followed the man down the corridor, and out into another hallway that looked very much like the one Kirk had first entered. A few doors down, the man slowed to a stop, jingled his keys until he found the right one, and unlocked the door for him.

"I'll be standing post over there, and escort you back to the elevator when you are done," the man informed Kirk. He gave him another curt nod, and turned to stand post. As soon as the man moved out of his path, Kirk entered the room the man had so generously unlocked for him, if only to escape his scrutinizing gaze.

He clicked the door closed behind him with a sigh of relief. His handful of samples he had wished to place through the machine were thankfully still intact, and the machine was situated in the corner of a modestly sized room with a little bit of counter space and a stool.

Perfect. Kirk got to work.

He powered the machine to life, and began to prepare his samples. He made sure they were all in order. Although the room was smaller than his own lab, it was still well equipped and stocked with what he needed. When the samples were prepared and ready, he placed them in the machine to be sequenced, and sat down on the conveniently placed stool with his notes while he waited for the machine to finish.

Kirk knew it would take a while, and that he could have spent the time doing something more productive like returning to his own research, but he feared that if he did not wait for the machine to finish, he may not be able to see the results until the next day or a few days later when the guard was there to escort him to and fro.

Speaking of which, Kirk wondered if the guard thought he was taking too long by the sound of humming that started to resonate around the room. Had he left his post? Was he coming to check on him?

Kirk began to scurry around the room, cleaning up after himself in preparation for the man to enter the room and tell him that it was time to go.

"You're new."

Kirk's hand faltered around a flask, causing it to clatter against the counter. He whirled around expecting to see the guard standing in the doorway only to find no one there. The door was firmly shut, and the lock still in place.

However, although Kirk was sure he was alone, a bemused chuckle reverberated around the room as Kirk tried to find its source but fell short.

"My, aren't you a jumpy one?"

Despite Kirk's confusion, he couldn't help the light clenching of his jaw as he warily eyed a small vent opening in the far corner of the room.

"Nothing to say?" the voice continued to tease.

"Sorry, it's easier to talk someone when you can see them."

"Is it now? Well I'd love to oblige you but you know how fickle these cards are."

Kirk couldn't argue with that, which made Kirk wonder… "Do you work here?"

"In a way."

Kirk tried to refrain from huffing incredulously at the cryptic response. He had hoped that perhaps the other person was a scientist, or at least a staffer who knew more about the facility than anyone cared to let Kirk on, which was nothing.

"You are new, sí?"

"Yes," Kirk answered at last. "Is it that obvious?" _'That you can tell from a vent?'_ went left unsaid, though the self-deprecation in his voice was more than evident.

"I could tell by the sound of your gait. It's new."

"My gait?"

"Yes, your footsteps."

"You can hear that?"

There was a small pause before, "Yes, you'd be surprised by the sound these vents can carry."

"I see." Kirk hadn't ran into that problem so far, but he supposed it was plausible or the man just had incredibly good hearing. Kirk was leaning more towards the latter.

"Can I ask what brought you here?"

"I…" Kirk began although the words trailed off before he could say something he'd regret. What brought him here? Desperation? Escape?

His throat suddenly seized up, choking him as he reflexively began to cough. A hand clutched tightly to his chest as the other went to wrap around his throat in what was meant to be a soothing motion. However, all he felt were the swollen glands throbbing against his fingertips until at last, the coughs settled.

With a heavy hand, he leaned against the counter for support, and tried to catch his breath.

"You're sick," the voice stated rather than questioned, though it's tone was no longer teasing, but had dropped a few octaves as if in understanding. It wasn't a sympathetic tone a stranger might use to wish one luck in getting over a cold. It was that of a person who knew the illness was much more serious than the sniffles. He knew Kirk was terminal, that he was holding on to the very edge of death's doorstep.

Kirk was silent, and so was the voice on the other side of the vent.

A knock on the door broke the pregnant pause. The door opened, and there was the guard who had escorted Kirk to the room standing there once more.

"My shift is almost over, so I need to escort you back now. I can guide you back here in the morning if you still need this room."

"Yes." Kirk took a deep breath to collect himself. "Yes, I'll be right with you."

With sharp blue eyes, the guard gave Kirk a once over, but thankfully decided not to say anything as he waited for the scientist to pack his things up and go.

Without saying goodbye to the stranger in the vent, Kirk followed the guard out, and returned to the 4th floor promptly.


	3. Chapter 3

As promised, Kirk returned the following morning to follow the same guard down the same long corridor to collect the results. The room was quiet when he first entered, no one speaking to him through the walls or vents. Although he knew it was most likely ridiculous to expect the man he spoke with yesterday to know he had returned, he couldn't help but cast an eye over at the vent that remained silent.

Even as he collected his data and left the room in hopes to not keep the guard outside waiting for long on his behalf, nothing came from the vents.

"Mr. Langstrom." Kirk glanced up at his name suddenly being called.

A young man greeted Kirk with a broad smile, and just as long strides to reach him. Judging by the man's long white lab coat flaring behind his every eager step, Kirk hoped he was another scientist. Perhaps even the one that had been speaking to him through the vents.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Michael Holt. It's nice to finally meet you." he extended his hand out for Kirk to shake. Kirk did so, although the voice was not the same one he heard from the vent. He wasn't sure whether the fact was reassuring or disappointing. Nonetheless, it was good to see another face in the facility that wasn't presently wearing a face guard.

As if reading Kirk's thoughts, Holt smiled. "Charming place here, isn't it? Come, let's talk somewhere a bit friendlier."

He began to walk the opposite way Kirk was used to, but Kirk followed nonetheless as Holt continued to walk like Waller, confident that Kirk wouldn't question him. However, Holt seemed more approachable than Waller. His smile was bright, and his voice calm and amicable. Even so, Kirk couldn't help but feel like the smile was distant, impersonal as the person who makes sure there's food in the fridge for Kirk every day.

"Here we are. I'm on the tenth floor. I like natural light, don't you?" Holt glanced over at Kirk for his agreement.

"I'm afraid I'm fonder of the dark myself. My complexion isn't one that can stand the sun for long." Kirk tried to humor which Holt readily chuckled at for a moment until the elevator slowed at his floor.

Holt led Kirk to what appeared to be his office, and true to his word, Holt had a large window at the far wall that allowed plenty of light. Looking past Holt, all Kirk could see was miles of golden wheat fields.

"Please, have a seat." Holt indicated the seat across from his desk as he moved to sit behind it. "Lovely view, isn't it?" Holt caught Kirk's line of sight. "It's no city skyline, but it's better than cement. Now, I'm sure you're wondering why you're here, and quite frankly I wondered myself why Waller brought you in. Personally, you were not my first choice – no offense, it's just your… health concerned me. How are you feeling by the way?"

"I'm alright, thank you." Kirk mentally stumbled across the other man's straightforwardness.

Holt's artificial smile tugged upon the corners of his lips once more. "Good, glad to hear it. One of the guards was telling me earlier that they heard coughing. I just want to make sure, since you don't see a lot of people during the day, we're not going to find you keeled over your lab notes several days after."

After a moment of watching Kirk trying to scramble for a proper response, Holt continued. "But Waller tells me you're working on that as well, which brings us to the real reason I called you down here." Holt straightened, and his dark eyes narrowed on Kirk. "You were given, ah, a pet project to the parent one I'm currently working on. However, the strides you make in this project could prove fruitful for mine. Therefore, I've called you in to ask you simply, how are you doing?"

Kirk stiffened. Holt did not greet like Waller nor did he carry himself like her, but his dark eyes pinning him down like a bug on a glass slide were no friendlier than Waller's. Nonetheless, Kirk repeated what he had told Waller, hoping Holt wasn't too disappointed by what little progress Kirk has made so far for certainly what he had told Waller, Waller already told Holt.

Despite this, Holt's artificial smile never faltered for a second with genuine feeling. Instead it remained fixed on the man's lips until the very end.

"I see. Well if something new should develop I hope you don't hesitate to tell me." Holt began to stand up from behind his desk as Kirk did the same. One last time, he gave his regards to the project before Kirk was escorted back to his floor by another guard. Kirk tried not to wonder how many armed guards there were stationed here, for the question of why they were there would inevitably follow.

Meanwhile, Holt watched Kirk's retreating form when the sound of his phone returned him to his office.

"This is Dr. Holt… Ah, thank you for returning my call, Mr. Magnus."

* * *

Knowing that he not only had Waller, but now Dr. Holt as well watching his every move, Kirk didn't spare a moment to return to his work. The work that was so important and yet so secretive that even he wasn't allowed to know everything. Nonetheless, he spent the next few days crunching numbers and going over the data enough times, he lost count.

He returned to the sequencer for further analysis. He prepared the samples like he did last time and cleaned up after himself as he waited for the sequencer to process the genetic code once more. When he was sure there was no variation from the first and second time, he would be sure that the sequence was correct.

"Long time no see."

Kirk glanced up at the vent opening where the familiar voice echoed from. For some reason, he couldn't help the slight up-curve of his lips at the comfort he found in the familiar voice. Perhaps it was the fact that the voice was faceless. He couldn't see its artificial smile, or feel the person's piercing gaze which brought him ease. He could only hear the warmth in the other's voice.

"Yes, it has been. I see my gait has not changed."

The voice chuckled but did not confirm nor deny the assumption. "I've had some time to think. Are you afraid of death?"

Kirk paused, setting the cleaned beaker down for a moment. "No."

"And yet you're here."

"I might not be afraid of death, but that does not mean I want to die." Kirk resumed his cleaning.

A bemused hum sounded from the vent as the voice did not say another word. Kirk wondered if the other man had left at that point, going to think again. For some reason, the thought unnerved Kirk. Whether the words who they were intended for was there or not, he was moved to say something.

"I… I have friends – good friends who I don't want to say goodbye to just yet. You see, I have always been a friend to the dark. When I was eight, I fell down a hole in the ground, and the place was dark, and cold… very cold, and no matter how loudly I screamed no one came. Needless to say, I was down there for over a month until authorities found me, but by then I had made friends with the dark. I still feel comfort in it. But my friends…" Kirk paused for a moment before a self-deprecating laugh left him. "I'm not sure why I'm sharing this with you… I've never told anyone this… maybe it's because I can't see your face that this is easier. Sort of the way people say confessions at church."

Kirk chanced another glance at the vent, but yet again, he was met with silence.

"I once saw a man who thirsted for sunlight. I feel as though I have been in the dark for so long I've lost that desire until now. My friends, I've come to realize, are my light, and I wish to stay with them as long as I can. I don't want to miss everything. That's why I'm here."

Kirk packed his things up ready to go. He did not mean to slam the cupboard as loudly as he did. The shock of it caused his fingers to linger on the handle for a moment longer as if to ground himself once more. Where that sudden need for validation came from, he wasn't sure. He wasn't sure why he felt the need to prove himself to a faceless voice that came from a vent. For all he knew it could just be a voice inside his head, another mocking side effect of ever growing lymph nodes.

"Around 5am is day break," the voice returned. "Maybe then you'll know what it feels like to thirst for sunlight."

Kirk let go of the handle, but didn't make a move to say anything.

"Also, you haven't missed everything. You might miss some things, but not everything."

Kirk looked back at the vent. He wanted to say thank you, but he instead picked up his things and left the room with the machine still processing and the man on the other side of the vent alone.

Even though he had shut the door behind him, he couldn't shut the other man's words out. Kirk worked through the rest of the day, although he couldn't help but find himself lingering out in the hallway longer than usual, or remarking the time of day by the darkness outside the few windows he had.

Did the man from the vent have a window? Dr. Holt had his office on the upper levels so he could have sunlight, but the man from the vent… he must be stationed on a basement level meaning he wouldn't be able to see the sun. Though perhaps he went home in the evenings, and woke up to the sun rising, only to return to the darkness that was the basement.

Kirk glanced down at his watch. He had been standing there since 4am, waiting for the sun to rise. Some part of him thought little of it. He had seen the sun rise and fall before. There was nothing to it, and yet he couldn't help the twists in his gut.

Nonetheless, his eyes never left the horizon as he watched the sky gradually turn lighter and lighter. The stars faded in surrender to the one Earth revolved around, what everything, everyone revolved around, the sun.

The sky streaked in varying gradients of reds and orange like fingers reaching across the sky. It was as if the sun were pulling itself through the night sky and with It brought victorious light.

Before he knew it, the disc of the sun began to peek over the rim of the earth at Kirk, and in what seemed like only a few seconds, reveled itself completely in all Its shining glory.

The rays painted the wheat fields in gold, the sky blue, and for a moment Kirk just took in a deep breath. Then let it go.

When he closed his eyes, he saw that man's face once more, with his head raised in complete surrender to the sun. Although Kirk could not feel the ray's warmth, he saw it chase away the night, and knew that he too could chase away the doubt that shadowed his mind.

"I saw the sun rise," Kirk said aloud as he began to extract the data from the sequencer. He wasn't sure the man from the vent would be there to hear him, but part of him knew he was.

As if on cue, the voice cleared their throat. "And?"

"And it was… enlightening."

A laugh trickled from the vent as Kirk found himself smiling at the sound of it. "I'm sure it was."

Kirk began to clean up after himself, the smile still gracing his features. "I wanted to thank you for your advice."

"De nada. I'm glad you took it."

"Do you often watch the sunrise?"

"No, not anymore. When I was growing up, yes, I got up before the sun, and watched it as it rose."

"You got up that early as a kid?" At least his parents never made him do that, Kirk thought. "Were you raised on a farm?"

There was a small pause before he answered, "Yes, it was a… large farm. My family and I worked from the crack of dawn to well after sunset. And you?"

"I'm a city boy, I'm afraid. It's where all the cars are you see. My father's an auto repairman so I've been in the city for all my life."

"You don't tire of all the smoke?"

"And all the congestion and pollution? I suppose not."

"Hm, then tell me how a boy who probably learned how to put carburetors together by the age of five becomes a scientist?"

Kirk couldn't help but laugh a little at question for it was one his family has asked him several times before as well.

"Remember when I said I fell down a hole? Well, I wasn't alone in those caves. I was surrounded by bats."

"Bats?"

Kirk hummed in confirmation, "Many of them. It was scary at first, but I grew quite fond of them. Once I got out of the caves, I read every book I could find about them. I was going to be a zoologist at first, but I ended up turning to medicine, and then oncology, and lastly hematology."

"What is that?"

Kirk paused for moment at the question. The voice was not another scientist for they would have known the terms otherwise. Perhaps they worked in the kitchens, or maybe they were another guard?

"I study blood based diseases."

"Diseases such as your own?"

Kirk nodded, forgetting that the other person could not see him. However, the silence that filled the void between them was telling enough.

As Kirk made his way to the door to leave, the voice trickled out of the vent once more. The words were soft, almost whispered, but Kirk heard them nonetheless.

"I'm sorry."

He smiled. "Me too."

He made sure the door was shut behind him, and the guard once again walked him back.

'Me too.' Kirk had never said that before. When someone said their condolences, he thanked them, or said it was not their fault, but for some reason, he did not this time.

Perhaps it was the way the other person had worded the question that made him think defensively. The person knew he was sick. Although there was no way of determining the degree of it, the assumption was clear.

The stranger assumed he was finding a cure for himself, and though that was true, Kirk couldn't help but feel like there was judgement behind that assumption as well.

Did the person pity him? Think him desperate or self-serving? Was it wrong to want to save oneself?

Kirk tried to shake the thought away, and yet his eyes kept drifting to the phone that hung on the wall. It must have been a week or maybe two since he had spoken with either Tina or Will. Both must be furious with him.

Will because he thought Kirk had given up, and Tina because he was sure she has filled his voice box with messages asking where he was. He couldn't tell her. Either of them. It was better if they both tried to move on.

That day at the hospital when Tina returned, she passed the day talking about her wedding. She had narrated her tales about her fussy bridesmaids, and nearly reenacted the theatrical battle between her and the baker to speed up her order. She was moving her wedding up, even changing the venues, and although she never said it, Kirk knew it was for him.

She wanted him there. She wanted him standing beside Will as his best man, and to see her in her overpriced white dress as she walked down the aisle.

Kirk wanted to be there too.

With that thought in mind, he pushed the stranger's voice aside, and returned to work.

The sequence was the same. Nothing had changed, but just to be sure, Kirk prepped a third sample to check one final time.

When he returned to the room later in the evening, he didn't say a word, and nor did the other person. There was silence from the vents. Kirk wondered if it was what he said earlier that made the other person silent, or perhaps he just wasn't currently around.

The latter was more plausible than the former, and though Kirk tried not to dawdle, he couldn't help but take his time more than usual.

Still nothing.

Finally, with a knocking on the door from the guard, Kirk gave up and concluded that the other person had simply gone home. The thought of home, made Kirk think that perhaps he should head home too, but he never did. He went back to work.

* * *

By morning, Kirk knew the sample would be ready, and so he returned to the room, not knowing if he should expect the person to be back or not. Nonetheless, he went through the usual motions.

"I see… you're still al-alive." the voice sounded from the vents, breathless. The 'e's in the word 'see' seemed to have more 'e's than just two. It was drawn out, and yet the word 'alive' strained.

"Are you alright?" Kirk asked, worry evident in his tone. "You sound hurt."

The voice scoffed. "In this world… it's hard not to be."

Kirk paused. He didn't know what to say. How was he supposed to respond to that? A simple apology wouldn't suffice, but then he felt nothing would.

However, before he could say anything, the voice prompted. "Would you say you're a good person?"

Kirk took his time before answering. "If you're asking me whether I think there are good or bad people in the world, I do, but I also believe there are good people who do bad things and there are bad people who do good things. Not every decision we make is all bad or all good."

The voice was silent for some time.

"Then what makes a person good or bad to you?"

"Intentions, I suppose."

"And your intentions?"

Kirk wanted to say his were good. That what he was doing was for everyone else's sake, and yet…

"I… can't say that all my recent intentions have been good…" Kirk admitted, although it was hard to see a good road on the current path he was forced on by the luck of the draw. Or was it fate that had brought him here?

"So you're a good person who's doing something bad?"

"I'm not a good person," Kirk corrected. "I'm… I'm just a person."

"Just a person?"

"Yes, just a person. I don't think I've had enough time yet to decide whether I'm good or bad."

"So, you have time to change?"

"I'd like to believe we all have the potential to be good or to do good things."

"Same can be said about evil, and yet I can't help but notice a trend when it comes to good and bad people." the voice paused for a moment, as Kirk could hear a light rattling noise, followed by a muffled grunt forced between clenched teeth. The person took in audible gulps of air, and then there was silence.

Kirk wanted to say something, call out to them, but luckily the person spoke up before Kirk could get the words out.

"You say all have the potential to do good things, but not all people are born the same, which creates a trend of those who are good and those who are bad. Those who tend to be good are those born with less, and those bad are typically born with more…"

"I don't think it's as black and white as you say." Kirk spoke up after some time of thought. He believed Will and Tina were good people, and they were born in relatively good families. However, at the same time, from a scientific point of view, it would be hard to say this person was good or this person was bad, and place them all in an excel file to graph.

Nonetheless, he tried to sympathize with the person. "I'm sorry if I assumed wrong, but you sound… pained. Not just physically but emotionally as well. Someone has hurt you, perhaps more than one person, and it's true, people can be cruel. Growing up for me was not easy. I was more in love with bats than I was with humans, but then I met two people who made me think for the first time that life wasn't so bad. That people could be kind too. You just have to find the right ones, and once you find them, keep them close."

Kirk stilled at his own words as he thought about the two people he had in mind and what they must be going through. What he was doing to them. He was hurting them.

"Thank you… I needed to remember there are still good people." the voice said after a while. "And I think you just remembered too."

Kirk smiled, "I did. I do."

He began to stack his collected data in a pile to go. "I hope you are alright?"

An incredulous huff sounded from the vents. "I am, thanks. Go, be with your friends."

"I will, thank you," Kirk replied, and he left the room to finally go home.

* * *

A/N: So the story of Kirk falling into a hole when he was young comes from his background in the New Earth verse. I liked that this was his origins to loving bats, and probably being really awkward around people, so I adopted it for this. How he survived there for 5wks, or however long it was, I don't know, but comic logic.


	4. Chapter 4

It has been so long since Kirk was home. As soon as he returned to his lab, he called for a driver to take him home. The car was ready in ten minutes, and Kirk entered it easier than he did the first time. He was not filled with overwhelming guilt, but rather he was on a mission to make up for what he had done.

He was wrong. He understood that now.

He shouldn't have pushed Tina and Will away, and yet when he arrived at his doorstep, his hand froze around the door handle. What would he say to them? How could he possibly apologize for what he had done?

He couldn't.

The metal felt cold in his grasp when he finally turned the handle. As soon as he walked in, he was met with a light. A single light glowed in his dark apartment, and underneath it slept Tina. The light seemed to form a halo around her head, solidifying the angel that she was.

Kirk swallowed dryly.

How long had she been there? How many nights did she wait for him to return? Kirk was flooded with remorse. He should have known she would do this. She wouldn't settle for an overfilled voice-box. She would come herself and wait. That was who she was. She was a fighter, like Will, but in her own way.

Which made Kirk wonder, where was Will? Surely, he wouldn't stay in his apartment alone while Tina waited for him here. That meant the only other place he could be was the lab. Will was working, working for him while Kirk neglected him.

Kirk swallowed once more as if he could swallow down the guilt that threatened to overwhelm him. Slowly, he made his way over to where Tina rested. He noticed the pile of tissues that were scrunched up on the side table, and the phone tucked between the arm of the sofa and her leg. It was if she had the phone resting on her lap the entire time, waiting for a call that never came.

Carefully, Kirk bent down to gather her up in his arms and carried her to his room. However, he had grown weaker over the past few months that even lifting Tina was a struggle. Thankfully he somehow made it. He laid her down as comfortably as he could, and placed a blanket over her.

He spent the night on the couch she once occupied. He made sure to clean up all the tissues, the glass she used, along with placing the phone back in its place. Even when he finally laid himself down on the couch, he could not sleep, or at least he thought so. All those days spent staring at endless data caught up to him, or perhaps it was his illness that made him so weary.

Nonetheless, at some point, he fell asleep for when he woke up, he felt fingers softly running over his neck where his cancer never slept.

"It grew."

He reached for her wrist only for her fingers to clamp up into a fist. She swiftly tugged it from his weak hold, and as it came down, Kirk shut his eyes in anticipation of her strike.

It never came.

Blue eyes opened to see the fist shaking inches away from his chest while her face itself was marred by utter frustration.

 _'Why?'_ he could hear her yelling at him, but like her fist, her lips trembled too. _'Idiot! Selfish! Thoughtless! Idiot!'_

He sat up and hugged her, trying to silence her yelling voice in his head. With his arms around her, she stiffened at first, but then at last, returned the hug. Even when her shoulders began to quake, he only held onto her tighter. He felt her tears soak his shoulder, a place where another lump grew, and her fingers run along the back of neck, circling another spot.

He took the wandering hand in his.

"I don't want you to see the cancer, Tina." Kirk pulled himself away so that he may look at her, and she him. "I want you to see me."

When she didn't, Kirk pleaded softly. "Please, Tina, look at me."

With a long sniff, blue eyes slowly looked up at Kirk and held him. Once she looked at him, she couldn't look away.

"Please, I don't care where've you been. You don't have to tell me. Just… don't leave me like that. Please, don't disappear from me." she reached for him, but this time she did not feel for the cancer. She held him, and only him.

Kirk held her just as tightly in return.

In the morning, Kirk woke up with Tina still clinging onto him. She had not let go of him, although she had to. Kirk had to go. The car would be back soon to pick him up, and despite what he had promised last night, he still had to do what he believed was right.

Carefully, he untangled himself without waking her, and left her a note promising he would return in the evening.

* * *

The data for sample three remained where he had left it, and to his surprise it was different from the two before it. The difference was alarming. It was striking in a way he could not explain.

But why this one? Why is this one different from the others? To his knowledge there was no difference to the way he handled the sample than he had the other two.

The only difference was… he was holding it for two or three hours when he was watching the sun rise. Either the warmth that radiated from his hand, or perhaps the radiation from the sun triggered the difference.

With that in mind, he prepped a new sample, and placed it in one of the windows where it was exposed to indirect sunlight. Then after a few hours, he was back in the sequencer room to see if the exposure to sunlight changed the sample once more.

"You seem eager." the voice from the vent returned. Kirk didn't even bother asking how the other could know. Perhaps it was by the sound of his gait again. No matter. He was too excited by the prospects of making progress on his project at last to question anything the other person might say to him.

"I believe I might have found something."

"Oh?"

"Hm, and surprisingly I have you to thank." Kirk continued to move around the room, not stopping for a moment in between his words.

"De nada, though I can't see how I could have helped you."

"The sunrise. It affected the sample."

"The sun?"

"Yes – I think – I don't know yet, but I think so."

The voice was silent for several moments before asking.

"Do you know what you're working on?"

"I'm not sure if I'm allowed to say."

"You are working on… blood samples, are you not? Since you're a hematologist?"

"I am."

"And there's something different about these blood samples. Something that is effected by the sun."

"Yes." Kirk was wondering where this was going.

"I believe you have helped me as well."

"How so?" Kirk's movements slowed down for a moment.

"That doesn't matter. What matters is that you take my advice once more. Take your data and get out of here as soon as you can. Use it to make your cure, but if you stay here, you won't find it. They won't let you."

"What? What do you mean they won't let me?"

"Just go."

Kirk looked up at the vents alarmed at the other's urgency. He couldn't just go. He was on the verge of making a new discovery which meant he still had so much work to do. He couldn't just leave it all. Not when he felt like he was so close.

"And you? Are you going?" Kirk asked skeptically.

"I'll see you again, my friend, I have no doubt about that. Now go find your cure."

At the mention of friend, Kirk stilled. He was a friend? Someone else considered him a friend? He wasn't sure what he did to earn the title, but if he was considered a friend, then Kirk would try his best to be one.

"I hope to see you again too, friend."

He gathered up his things and left the room for the final time.

* * *

When he returned to the lab he was surprised to see Waller, standing over a few of his papers. Dark eyes narrowed in scrutiny over the numbers as if she understood them perfectly. For all Kirk knew, she might have.

When those eyes flashed on him, Kirk couldn't help but feel small again. He felt very miniscule in her vast design for the future.

"Mr. Langstrom, I see you have made some progress." although her eyes were sharp, her voice was more welcoming – perhaps even pleased. A pleased Waller, Kirk felt, meant a deadly one. The warning his friend gave him echoed in his head. Even if he wanted to leave, would she let him go? With all that he knew?

No.

"Yes, I was in the process of running some new tests to see what was the agent that changed the chemical composition." Kirk made his way further into the lab before setting his papers down. However, he kept them close to him. He didn't set them aside or offer them for her to take. Even when her eyes were drawn to them, Kirk didn't concede to her silent command.

"I see, and what are the agents you are testing?" Waller's piercing gaze never left the stack of papers beneath Kirk's firm hand.

"Heat is the first one."

"Heat? I don't believe heat is the cause of change. We've tried keeping the samples in incubators before, nothing changed."

Kirk tried to hold his ground. "Change of pH levels."

"Are you alkalizing the samples?"

"To buffer the acidity, yes. The plasma is surprisingly acidic compared to the normal 7.35 to 7.45 range human plasma usually is."

"That is true. Well, I hope those results come in soon. I'd be interested to know what they yield."

"Of course, Ms. Waller."

"Very good. Carry on, Mr. Langstrom." She finally left with the clicking of her heels punctuating every step she took.

Kirk released a sigh. She was finally gone. He never had felt comfortable around her. Every internal alarm he had always went off as soon as those dark eyes flashed upon him, but he never listened to them until now. Maybe the person on the other side of that vent had a point. Even Tina was skeptical about Waller since the first time she saw her, and Will hated the way Waller's nose upturned around him.

No, the person was right. He needed to get out of here, and soon. However, to not raise any of her alarm bells, Kirk tried to go through his usual motions as if nothing happened, and then return home like he had promised Tina.

He piled the stack of papers into a drawer so no one could walk in and look at them. He was careless to have left his previous data out like that. Luckily, or perhaps not, it was only Waller that had walked in on him.

Nonetheless, his eyes strayed to the clock on the wall more often than usual as it slowly ticked away, second by second. Any minute now, Kirk thought, and yet his hand shook around the beaker, and his movements clumsier than usual.

It was no use. He was going to hurt himself if he didn't stop, and so he took a break. In the kitchen was his usual sandwich as always. He hoped that if this was going to be his last day here, he might have been able to chance a look at the person who always dropped it off for him. Now it looks like he may never know.

With that in mind, he ripped off a piece of paper, and scribbled down a small thank you to stick on the fridge. There, leaving the small note for a person he never saw made him feel a little better. It reminded him of another person he never saw, but they always seemed to hear him. They listened to all his ridiculous stories, even ones he hadn't told Tina or Will before, and even made him laugh at some points. It was because of them that Kirk found himself in the sequencing room more often than needed.

After sparing the kitchens one last look for anything he might have left, he returned to his lab to complete the pH level tests he promised Waller. As expected, the blood samples reacted the same as the human – or he was sure they were human – samples did. He was able to manipulate the pH samples as desired.

The only long-lasting change he observed was caused by exposure to radiation which made him wonder… if he placed the alkalized samples out in the sunlight, what would happen?

He gathered the samples up, and went to the hallway where he had three windows that overlooked the courtyard. He placed all of them on the window sill in indirect sunlight, and was about to head back to his lab when he saw him.

There, out in the courtyard was the man he saw earlier, the man who thirsted for sunlight. Once again, his head was raised to the sun. But this time, he had arms stretched out and beige sleeves rolled up to his shoulders. It was as if he was trying to feel the sun as much as he could, bathing under its light.

Surprisingly his arms were muscular, strong, and his shoulders broad. Perhaps that was the reason why he had so many people guarding him. The thought alone should send a chill up Kirk's spine, that this man could potentially be dangerous, and yet he wasn't frightened. He was mystified.

Then suddenly, as if the man had sensed Kirk watching him, his head turned towards his direction. The man's eyes were a blue that rivaled the sky which held the man's sun, but now they held his own unwavering gaze.

Kirk stared back. He should have looked away but there was a familiarity in the other's face that he had never seen before. He was sure he had never seen such an unearthly blue before, but there was familiarity in the way the man's lips curved in a knowing smile, as if he were already well acquainted with such a sight, the mirthfulness that played across the person's features.

"Oi, what're you looking at?" an authoritative voice shouted. Kirk couldn't see the person who yelled at the man, but the man himself appeared to give a huff of a silent laugh, a gesture Kirk thought was too akin to another he had never seen before.

However, before he could linger upon the matter, the man turned away from him. He gave one final look at the sun high above him to the tall wheat fields that waved at him from the other side of the wire fence.

"Time's up!" the same voice from earlier sounded, and like the first time, several people walked out to escort the man back inside. Kirk watched him go. He didn't spare Kirk another glance, but instead kept his head high as if to catch every last little bit of sunlight he could before going back inside a dark building.

The action reminded him of his blood samples catching sun as well. Seeing as the man was gone, Kirk gathered up his samples to test the pH levels, and they were back to normal. The sample self-corrected itself, separating the alkali from the plasma itself leaving a small residue at the top of the test tube.

Kirk had never seen such a thing. It was beyond extraordinary. If they could isolate the gene responsible, it would be revolutionary for cancer research, and even medicine as a whole.

But even as his mind was reeling, Kirk couldn't help but wonder where the blood samples came from. They didn't invent the gene, it wasn't man-made, or at least Kirk didn't think so. If it was, why would they need his help to isolate it? No, they had to have gotten it from someone else, someone they had close by for convenience.

Not only did they have to be close, but they had to be isolated from sunlight or constantly exposed to it for sunlight to have not been considered a factor.

 _'Charming place here, isn't it?' He recounted Holt's words, 'I like natural light, don't you?'_

The basement floors… they had no windows, no source of sunlight, and then that row of steel doors, the man in the beige jumpsuit, the man who craved the sun…

He glanced down at the sample of blood, blood that was invulnerable in the sun. Now, after minutes of being away from natural light, the alkali sank deep into the plasma once more. The plasma was starved of sunlight.

It was his.

Hands reached out for the work table, falling with a slow thud as if in time with the world turning on its axis. His fingers gripped the edge. Even with his knuckles turning white, his knees still felt weak and yet his gut light as if the wind had been knocked out of him.

He couldn't breathe.

He couldn't…

* * *

"Langstrom? Mr. Langstrom? Can you hear me?"

"I told you this would happen."

"That's enough, Holt." the voice snapped. Although Kirk was not on the receiving end of it, he couldn't help but shudder. Without having to look, he already knew who was hovering above him.

Slowly he opened his eyes, only to blink to adjust to the harsh florescent lighting that was his lab.

"Mr. Langstrom?" Kirk glanced up at Waller standing over him, and Michael Holt right beside her. Another person, one Kirk did not recognize, knelt down beside him. He asked Kirk if he could sit up, and with great effort, and some help from what Kirk assumed was a medic of sorts, he sat up.

They helped position him so his back could rest against the wall. They asked for his name, date, and where he was which Kirk was able to answer.

"Good, it doesn't seem he hit his head too hard." the medic glanced up at Waller as if for further instructions.

"It's most likely the medication," she concluded.

"And the stress," Holt added despite the disapproving look Waller sent him.

"Langstrom, when was the last time you took your medications?"

"This morning."

"I see, well I think it's about time you headed home. Get some rest. It won't do for us to have you unwell," Waller replied, although she wasn't looking at Kirk as she said it. Instead, she was looking at the counter where Kirk realized he had left his experiment of the pH levels.

"Results negative?" she more so stated than asked.

"Inconclusive," Kirk corrected. "The pH levels changed as predicted when alkalized. I have yet to place them through further tests to see if higher or lower pH level affects the vulnerability of the sample or not."

"I see." Waller gave the line-up one last thoughtful look before turning on her heel to leave. "Make sure you take care of yourself, Mr. Langstrom. I can't help you if you're dead."

Her words were blunt enough that Holt had nothing to add. He instead gave Kirk a departing nod before following Waller out. The medic soon followed suit as well, but they at least gave Kirk a more sympathetic look before departing.

Kirk stayed where he was on the floor for some time. It was true that his medications made him weary, weak, but he did not think he would collapse. It had been a few weeks since he had last done so.

That wasn't good. Tina was right. The cancer was getting worse. It was progressing faster than he had originally thought. He was running out of time.

Looking at the clock, it wasn't too late. Tina, if she read his note, would be waiting for him, and perhaps Will too. Kirk hoped Will was there. He didn't want him torturing himself to find a cure if his time was so short. He wanted Will with him. He wanted to be with his friends, Kirk realized. He didn't want to be alone.

When the car dropped him off in front of his home, he noticed how light shined from his window along with a familiar face beaming down at him. Tina. As soon as their eyes met, she was gone, no doubt rushing out to meet him as Kirk tried to meet her at least halfway.

She beat him to it. The front door of the building was thrown open by the great force that was Tina.

"Kirk!"

He barely caught her, but as soon as she collided into him, as soon as they got a hold of each other, Kirk didn't dare let go. Even with weak knees and head throbbing, he held onto his anchor, one of the two things that kept him grounded in life.

"You came back. You kept your promise." Tina pulled back enough to look at Kirk. Her gentle hands came to frame his face as she looked at him. Simply looked at him. She smiled.

"Oh! Wait until Will gets here. He called not too long ago."

"Will's coming?" Kirk's heart thumped at the mere mention of Will's name.

"Yes, he's coming, but first let's get you inside. It's freezing out here." Tina took a hold of his hands, and led him inside.

The apartment was warm when he first entered, warmer than yesterday. Tina must have turned on the heat knowing Kirk would be returning later that night. She made sure the place was warm, and welcoming.

"I made some tea. Would you like some?"

"Yes, thank you." Kirk shrugged his coat off, and went to sit in the kitchen where Tina poured two cups of steaming hot tea for them. She set one cup down in front of Kirk before coming to sit across from him.

Her blue eyes stayed trained on her cup. Although her gentle smile remained, it seemed strained. It wasn't forced, she was happy Kirk was back. But in the once smooth path of her smile was a crooked line that struggled between relief and hurt.

Kirk wanted to reach out to her, apologize for what he had done, but before his hand could grasp hers, the front door slammed opened.

"Kirk!" Will barged in, eyes wide at the scene of Tina and Will with cups of tea.

"What are you two doing?" his apparent frustration was muffled by the heavy gasps of air he took as if he had ran all the over here. "This is no time for tea! Kirk, we have to get to the lab. The nanites, I've done it. We have to go now."

"What?"

"Now." Will repeated as he grabbed Kirk's coat from the back of the man's chair, along with the man himself. He pulled Kirk to his feet, hurriedly slid the coat over one arm before dragging the now clothed arm out the door.

Kirk struggled to slip his other arm in the last sleeve, while trying not to trip over his feet as Will dragged him out the door.

"Will, hold on. Please."

"Can't, Kirk. The nanites, they failed to hold up the structures of the cell previously and instead kept building themselves up like a cancer. But now I've got the code down. They'll do it this time. I promise, which is why we have to go to the lab now." He nearly shoved a stunned Kirk into the waiting car.

"Will! Wait up!" Tina slid into the back of the car easily before Will could drive off without her. The tea, everything else, forgotten.

Will continued to explain the modified nanites on the way to the lab. He had been working on them over the past few weeks that Kirk had been gone. Knowing this made Kirk's chest tighten a little more with guilt, but he tried to beat it down. He could apologize and feel guilty after they completed the cure.

As soon as they arrived, Will and Kirk got to work with combining Kirk's bat serum with Will's modified nanites. Tina watched them in the corner with a smile. It was good to see her boys working together again.

"That should do it." Will patted Kirk's shoulder in celebration. "Look at him go. He looks healthier than ever."

The rat continued to spin the wheel avidly, while the successors before him unfortunately weren't as lucky.

"It works..." Kirk continued to watch the rat run. "You did it."

"No, you did it, Kirk," Will corrected. "I was just… a small missing piece to the grand scheme of things. You did the heavy lifting."

Kirk shook his head lightly. "But you… all this time you were working hard for me and I was—"

"Hey, look at me Kirk." With his hand still on Kirk's shoulder, he steered the other in his direction. Once blue eyes focused on him, Will smiled. "Don't you dare start crying on me, buddy. The only time you get to cry is on my wedding day when you get to see me in my tux. Just you wait. I look stunning."

Kirk couldn't help but laugh at that, a smile sneaking upon his features. "I'm sure you look great, Will. Thank you."

"Don't mention it. Now let's get some well-deserved rest. I'm starting to see polka dots, and you know I hate polka dots."

"No, I can't wait any longer. I have to do it now." Kirk left Will's hold to grab a new syringe from one of the drawers. Carefully he filled it up to the proper dosage of the serum as Will watched cautiously.

"Hold on, Kirk. Don't you think we should wait for clearer results?"

"We have them, Will. It works. What we don't have is time."

"Kirk…" Tina spoke up for the first time since they entered the lab. Whatever else she had to say, she didn't need to. Just by the mention of his name, her uncertainty was clear.

 _'Be safe.'_ Kirk knew was what she wanted to say. He looked up at Will again, but he made no move to stop him. Instead those brown eyes were trained on the syringe in Kirk's hand. The hand that shook.

"Give me that." Will moved at last to take it from him. Kirk thought he was going to discard it, along with the ridiculous idea, but instead Will took a hold of Kirk's arm. He held it steady along with Kirk's gaze. There was no wavering in Kirk's blue eyes.

"You better survive this, you crazy bastard."

With that, Will administered the serum. One small prick and it was done. The serum was in him.

"Thank you." Kirk gently pressed a sheet of gauze against the injection site to stop the bleeding.

"Don't thank me yet."

Kirk smiled. "I'll be okay, Will." He tried to assure him, and himself. This had to work. It was his last chance.

"I know you will, or my name's not Will."

Kirk couldn't help but snort as Tina rolled her eyes. Nonetheless, he felt his shoulders relax, and the pounding of his heart slow, just by Will's poor joke alone.

He hoped that never changed. He hoped the three of them never changed, but that wasn't nature. Like the changing of the tides or the color of the leaves in fall, things changed. Change was natural, and all three of them would change in more ways than Kirk had ever thought of. But even after the changes in Kirk's life, Kirk liked to look back at this one moment. This last moment before his world was turned upside down. Before he changed, not for the better, and not even the worse, but simply a monster. He became a monster.


	5. Chapter 5

-Part 2-

 _'More. More. More.'_ Nails blindly clawed against stone. _'Need more.'_

Red eyes dilated at the sound of scurrying – throat heavy and dry.

"More." In one fell swoop of a hand, the creature was caught. Small nails dug into its captor's hand in a valiant attempt to break free, but to no avail. Even as the sound of its whines reached the captor's ears, it only seemed to make his heart race and his mouth water.

With the creature stretched thin between two hands, there was one final wail and then silence. Nothing remained but the static murmuring of a city. Although horns honked and sirens blared, he could only focus on the way his mouth was warmed immediately by the steady flow of liquid. It pooled to the back of his throat before scorching its way down all at once until there was nothing left.

It was over all too soon.

His stomach rumbled.

 _'More… need more.'_

He dropped the lifeless rat to search for another.

Searching, always searching.

He hated how his body endlessly craved it. No matter how hard he tried, it never let up; it never went away.

At one point, he tried stopping it by stopping himself. He locked himself up. Threw away the key as if he could throw away his hunger with it, but it stayed. It twisted his gut in a vice grip. Its hand always wanting, taking, and if Kirk didn't capitulate to its desire, it would make him suffer greatly.

When the grip grew too great, Kirk felt himself passing out. By the time he woke up, his hands were dried red and his shirt stained crimson.

His body, this monster inside him would not let him die. No matter how hard he tried to kill it, it remained, always hungry, always searching.

 _'More.'_

If he could not kill it, then he had to control it. He had to. His head whipped around at the familiar sound of wet feet scraping across asphalt. He lunged, snatched it up and dug in once more. When the animal wailed, sometimes Kirk had to wonder who really was the animal here.

"Hungry?"

Without a second thought, Kirk lunged at the sound of the other person, rat forgotten as he had the stranger pinned against the ground. His lips curled back into a snarl, and his eyes dilated with hunger.

He could feel the stranger's warmth. Their body heat seeped through his fingers, and his mouth watered at the thought of so much blood coursing through this person's body. He bared his fangs, inches away from sinking them into the conveniently exposed column of flesh.

However, he hesitated, heated breath ghosting over the carotid artery but never breaching the skin.

This was wrong.

His hands that pinned the stranger's shoulders down in a vice grip lessened, and his breath trembled.

 _'No, I can't…'_

Crimson eyes were then suddenly drawn to the slow bob of the stranger's Adam's apple. The stranger didn't scream, didn't wail in protest, but only swallowed silently. Who was this person?

Kirk pulled back from the stranger when he felt the unfamiliar weight of a hand upon his shoulder. He recoiled as if the touch burned him. No, he couldn't do this. He couldn't just feed on a stranger like this with no rhyme nor reason. He couldn't.

Before the stranger could say anything, Kirk took off. He had to get away.

Shouts followed his retreating footsteps, but he did not dare stop now. Instead he took a sharp turn, and plummeted into the sewers. Unlike human legs, his could handle the burden of the fall.

He hit the ground running. He twisted and turned around familiar corners, never stopping to look behind his shoulder or to listen if someone was following him.

It wasn't until he reached a dead end that he stopped. With abated breath, he looked back. No one. He lost them thankfully, although he doubted that whomever it was would run into the sewers after him. Even though he had GCPD after him, and people he couldn't discern, they never were able to catch him.

Sometimes he wondered what would they do if he did let them catch him? Would the cops arrest him? Cage him? Place him on trial? Or the other people that chased after him – are they part of the mob seeking revenge? Or perhaps they were just some hired hunters trying to trap him and place him in a lab.

Chills ran down his back at the thought of being a test subject in a lab. He was reminded of his brief time working for Waller. Hopefully some of the men chasing him were not hers. If they were, it was all the more reason to make his way out slowly through the shadows of the sewers until he found the hatch he was looking for.

From there he crawled into what little space he had made for himself in order to escape the light of day.

The entire building was abandoned in the shadows of the city. Its wooden floorboards creaked with threats to collapse at any moment, and its windows (if there were any still intact) were caked with dust. Nonetheless, Kirk and a few other brave souls took their chances and slept in the dusty corners.

When Kirk walked in, no one spared him a glance, but let him go. Kirk imagined they had their own ghosts that haunted them. They needn't any more, and therefore wouldn't dare approach him.

With his hunger sated somewhat, Kirk trusted himself to not black out, to not attack these people. He found his corner furthest from the window that was covered with a spare rag. The dingy rag served as a blind so the sun never touched him.

It had been so long since he had last touched the sun that he had forgotten what it felt like.

He had forgotten what warmth felt like. His hands were freezing and his blood cold. The only heat he got was lukewarm when it slid down his throat and pooled in his gut like a heavy weight.

He tried to shake away such thoughts. No, he had sated his hunger. He didn't need any more; he didn't want any more. Yet the monster inside him craved it, rattled its cage until Kirk gave in. But for now, it was thankfully silent. It sulked in its cage in grudging compliance.

 _'It's okay for now.'_ Kirk thought as he slowly let his eyes close. 'I'm okay.'

When night fell again, the beast inside him awoke with bloodlust. He needed more, and he needed it soon.

The complex by then was nearly empty to Kirk's relief as he made his way out once more to stalk the abandoned docks. Few people ventured there, making it safe for Kirk to hunt for small critters. However, he would have to find new hunting grounds soon.

The rats had grown smart. They knew Kirk had marked the docks as his territory, and it would behoove them to move residence sooner rather than later. Until then, Kirk snatched at the first one he saw.

Without further ceremony, he sunk his fangs in. It had taken Kirk some time to get over the idea of feeding on rats. The way the fur felt against his tongue… but now it didn't matter. Rats were better than the alternative, and no one would care if he fed on the rats. He was doing them a favor by lowering the rat infestation that plagued the streets of Gotham. And if Kirk was lucky, the cesspool that was a rodent's back may one day kill him. Unfortunately, that day has yet to come.

Then suddenly there was a dull thump beside him, a sloshing sound that made his pointed ears perk up and his red eyes dilate. The rat slipped from his mouth as he laid eyes on the package. It was a blood bag. One akin to those you would find at hospitals.

"I brought you something." Kirk glanced up at the direction of the voice, and to his surprise the person was hovering a few feet away, flying.

"Think of it as a peace offering." the man slowly descended with his feet landing against the pavement without a sound.

He was tall, with a long dark jacket that came to just below his knees. Even though black was supposed to be slimming, Kirk could see how broad his shoulders were, and the navy shirt did little to conceal the well-shaped muscle beneath.

His face was sharp, with eyes belonging to those of a distant memory.

Kirk eyed the blood bag and the flying man warily. The amusement that seemed to flicker in the man's eyes didn't bode well to Kirk, but then again, there was only one person Kirk had heard of that could fly.

He snatched the blood bag up. "Why give me this, Superman?"

The proclaimed god arched a brow, but smiled nonetheless. "You were hungry – or have you already sated your hunger?"

Before Kirk could claim that he was fine, his stomach rumbled. Superman couldn't help but laugh as if he had known Kirk was about to throw the blood bag back to him. Instead the vampire muttered a quiet thank you before sinking his fangs through the plastic to drink his fill.

The blood was colder than the rat, but much more filling since there was more of it. He finished it in a matter of minutes as Superman stood nearby silently watching him. Kirk didn't very much appreciate the almost fascinated look in the other's eyes. It made him feel like an experiment, an animal being studied.

He pushed away the ill feeling. He tried not to be so quick to judge. Although, the last man he had trusted, the last person who had made sure Kirk had something to eat, did it to fulfill his own desires. He didn't care about Kirk. He only cared about himself. Therefore, Kirk couldn't help but be guarded around this stranger. What were his motives for feeding him?

"Better?" Superman asked after a few minutes of Kirk sitting silently with a now empty blood bag in hand.

"Yes… thank you," Kirk said before glancing up at the godlike figure. The papers didn't lie, Kirk thought. The man's ego seemed to ooze from his very pores, but Kirk refrained from saying anything. He wrote it off as his temper, which seemed to flare whenever he was hungry.

Instead he remained silent. He was never good at interacting with people, before and after his incident, but Superman did not seem to mind. His gaze still lingered on Kirk's frame, a thoughtful look gleaming in unearthly blue eyes.

"You don't look the way I thought you would," Hernan said at last.

Red eyes blinked back in response before Kirk looked away. "What did you think I'd look like?"

"Older for one," Hernan admitted. "Maybe a little taller…"

 _'He must be pulling my leg,'_ Kirk thought, and he really wasn't in the mood to be toyed with or made fun of.

"As much as I appreciate you giving me… food… why?"

Hernan paused his pondering before saying matter-of-factly, "Didn't I tell you earlier? You were hungry."

"Yes, but you're a hero and I'm…"

"Word on the streets says you are too." Kirk kept his gaze averted away from the hero of Metropolis. Kirk was no hero. Even if those he prayed upon were criminals, Kirk was no better than they were when he drained them of blood. As much as he convinced himself earlier that it was only for survival, the look of horror he saw from the bystanders reminded him of the truth. He was a monster.

Even now, after having consumed an entire bag, the greedy monster within him rattled its cage for more. Kirk slowly backed away from Superman. It wasn't safe to be so close to him. It wasn't safe when Kirk could hear the other's blood coursing through his body, and his heart beating in a hypnotic rhythm.

Seeing the other back away from him, Superman fearlessly came to close the distance between them. He knelt down on bended knee, and outstretched a hand to the vampire. "Our first meeting the other night did not go as planned, so por favor, let's try this again. I'm Hernan Guerra."

 _'Hernan?'_ Kirk had never heard the name mentioned in the papers before. He only heard of Superman, but then Superman – Hernan was extending a hand out for him to shake.

Warily, Kirk shook Hernan's hand, immediately feeling the man's warmth seep from his fingers into his cold ones.

"Kirk."

"Kirk." Hernan repeated, his hand grasping Kirk's in more than a hand shake for the smooth pad of his thumb began to rub against the back of Kirk's hand. Even though it was just a thumb, Kirk could feel the warm path the finger made across cold skin.

"Nice to meet you, Kirk." Hernan finally released his hand which Kirk tucked into himself to refrain from reaching for the hero's hand again. He balled his hands to keep from reaching out and sinking his fangs in the warm pulse that beat just beneath the surface.

 _'No. Fight it.'_ he pressed himself against the wall. _'Don't let it control you.'_

But there was nowhere to go with Superman remaining so close to him. There was little fear in those blue eyes. Even when the hero most likely knew that Kirk could jump him at any moment, he stood his ground.

"Do you have a place to stay?"

The sudden question silenced Kirk's inner monster for a moment as Kirk looked up at the hero as if he had spoken a different language entirely.

"Stay?"

"Yes," Hernan said. "A place to stay."

Kirk averted his gaze. "I do."

Hernan raised a questioning brow, but didn't press further. Instead he asked.

"Will you be here again tomorrow night?"

Kirk looked at him, but didn't answer. He didn't want to lie, but at the same time, why Hernan would be interested to know was beyond him. A few minutes passed of Hernan just holding Kirk's gaze, patiently waiting for a response. When none came, Hernan just smiled. The hero's actions once again threw Kirk off.

"Until tomorrow, Kirk," Hernan said with a departing nod. He straightened up to his full height, gave one last final look towards Kirk and took off.

Kirk watched him go. When Kirk could no longer see him, hear the man's heart beat, he relaxed. A great sigh of relief escaped him. He didn't know how much longer he could have controlled himself. The blood bag admittedly helped, but it wouldn't be long until he had to go on an actual hunt. Rats could only stave off his demon for so long.

With that in mind, he began to move once more, lest Hernan come back all of a sudden. He returned to the abandoned apartment complex like he did before. Dawn was just beginning to peak through the makeshift blinds as he huddled in his usual corner. He could make out the dust dancing in the sliver of sunlight. It reminded him of Hernan's earlier remark.

Kirk had a place to stay. He had this place, this corner. He didn't need any more. He didn't deserve any more. But staying in a place like this for so long, living on the streets, he must have been a sight for Hernan to question whether Kirk had a place to stay. He must have looked ragged, and no doubt smelled like rotting fish after nights of hanging around the docks. But the stench never got to him nor did the feeling of grime beneath his nails. He was not repulsed by his outward appearance.

Instead it was the voice inside his head. The monstrous voice would scream for blood and then laugh when it got its full.

 _'You know who I am.'_ It would taunt. _'I am you.'_

Kirk shut his eyes, and resigned himself to sleep with the foreign laughter ringing in his ears.

'Try as you might, you cannot escape who you are.'

'Then I haven't tried hard enough.'

Under the dim light of a waning moon, Kirk was back out on the docks trying to stave off his hunger for as long as he could. Although this time he was on the far side where the sound of cars passing by was less frequent, and the stench of rotting fish more assaulting than before. Yet Kirk continued to tread across the rotting planks, as opposed to the wet cement he was walking across the other night. This side was greener though, if only for the layers of algae that traveled up the planks like veins.

He also liked this side more because of the tall piers that precariously rose from the dark waters. There were patches of missing wood, and some of the planks had blotches of black mold, but still he found a place to sit at the very edge and look down at the black waves that came to slap against the weathered pillars that were all but keeping this perch from crumbling apart.

"You moved." Kirk followed the sound of the voice to see Super – Hernan floating in the air once more. He was either fearless, or very imprudent – perhaps both for continuing to meet him.

Nonetheless, he did not correct Kirk when he first called him Superman for he was not wrong if the red 'S' on the man's belt was anything to go by. Either that or he had some kind of weird fetish Kirk would rather not divulge into.

Kirk's gaze was drawn away from the belt to Hernan reaching into his inner jacket pocket where he revealed another blood bag very much like the one before. He held it out for Kirk to take.

"Thank you." Kirk reached for the bag. He didn't sink his teeth into it right away, but instead read the label only to see that it was poorly torn off. Only the blood type remained.

"Type O." Kirk skeptically read.

"Si, I thought it would be best since I wasn't sure whether different blood types affect you or not," Hernan explained before glancing down at the spot beside Kirk. "Is this seat taken?"

Kirk scooted over a little which Hernan took as a silent invitation. Careful to mind his long dark coat, Hernan sat down beside Kirk with his legs hanging off the edge.

"Did you get this from a hospital?" the thought made the blood bag less appetizing. Blood was already something hospitals could never have enough of. He didn't want to take away something that could possibly save another's life.

"I have my sources," Hernan said cryptically. "Don't worry. I didn't steal it from any blood bank."

Kirk didn't seem so sure, but after a moment or two of silence, when he was sure Hernan wasn't going to comment further, Kirk sank his fangs into the plastic. He had caught three rats before Hernan came, but his stomach still rumbled for more.

"I have another if you need it." Hernan patted his jacket pocket. While still drinking, Kirk shook his head lightly. Taking one was enough. He was already indebted to the hero. He wouldn't dare ask for more.

As Kirk drank slowly, Hernan again watched silently. Again, it was a little unnerving. Even when Kirk kept his eyes on the waves below them, he could still feel those blue eyes watching over him, measuring him from top to bottom as if scanning him. Kirk hadn't read or heard a lot about Superman's powers, but perhaps x-ray vision was one of them. Why Hernan would want to x-ray him was beyond him. Perhaps just out of curiosity. Did a monster's anatomy differ greatly from a human's?

Kirk chanced a glance over at Hernan once he had finished the blood bag, and to his surprise the hero was no longer looking at him but was looking up towards the night sky. Seeing his profile, he looked familiar, but Kirk couldn't quite place his finger on it.

He had never been good at remembering faces. It took him a while to commit certain features to mind. Hernan's eyes were a familiar blue, but everything else seemed off...

He pushed himself up, brushing off the bits of moss that stuck to his well-worn pants. "Thank you for the bag, but I should go."

Hernan glanced up at Kirk. "Will you be back again tomorrow?"

"No, I don't think so." Kirk felt bad for saying so by the inquiring look he received from Hernan, but it was for the best. "I just… you shouldn't be around me."

"I know."

Kirk paused. "Then why are you here?"

A smile tugged upon the hero's lips as he said. "I wanted someone to talk to."

The excuse would have sounded pathetic had it not been for the sincere look in his eyes. Couldn't Superman talk to anyone? He was Superman, and yet perhaps it was like how some celebrities were. Maybe it was hard for him to be around star-struck people. Maybe he couldn't be himself around others when they had already cemented an image of him in their minds.

So, Kirk sat back down beside Hernan on the old dock.

"Thank you."

"I won't be here tomorrow."

"Okay." Hernan's smile did not falter.

"And you still shouldn't hang around me."

"I know."

Kirk looked over at Hernan, lips drawn in a restraining line of questions he had already asked, of warnings he had already said, and yet Hernan seemed to hear none of them.

As if sensing his thoughts, Hernan said, "I think you're stronger than you think you are."

Kirk shook his head, but it was futile to tell the hero otherwise. "So here I am. Talk."

An amused look passed Hernan's features at the command, but talk he did. He talked about his day, saving Metropolis from one terror after another. He stopped a mass shooting in Metropolis mall, a suicide bomber from derailing a train filled with people, and even did mundane things such as retrieving a cat from a tree for a small girl. He even joked about the difficulty of removing blood stains from clothes. It seemed impossible once it dried. Such a statement had Kirk smiling sympathetically.

Kirk knew all too well about bloody clothing. The only reason his current black shirt wasn't splattered with it was because he took shirts from the criminals he put down. After all, in the condition he leaves them, they wouldn't be needing it, and he didn't want to alarm the homeless when they saw him.

"If the fabric is light, you can use a little hydrogen peroxide to act as bleach." Kirk tried to helpfully add.

"Oh?"

"Hm, I used to use it on my lab coats."

"Were you a scientist?"

Kirk realized what he had said. He shouldn't have said that. Super – Hernan didn't need to know about his former life. That life was gone. This was his life now.

He stood up to leave once more.

"Dawn is approaching. I should go."

Hernan nodded in understanding before reaching into his pocket to hand Kirk another blood bag, "Here, you might as well have it if you're insistent that I not see you again."

Kirk hesitated before taking it. "Thank you."

"De nada." Hernan offered a kind smile, but remained where he was sitting. Kirk wondered if Hernan was watching his retreating form, or whether he looked back over his shoulder to make sure Kirk was at last gone. Kirk would never know what Hernan did that night. He only knew the heavy weight of the bag in hands as he walked away.

It was for the best, Kirk reminded himself, and as promised he didn't return to the docks the next night or the nights to follow. He tried not to think about Superman waiting for him on the docks in the hopes to see him again, to talk to someone. He couldn't. If he did, he feared he would turn back to the docks. He would talk to Superman until his hunger took over him and forced his hand. He feared that Superman would finally understand his true nature, and be driven away once and for all.

Kirk continued to linger around the alleyways of Gotham, staying in the shadows to find anything to sink his teeth into. Anything that wasn't human. However, the alleys were harder than the docks. More people lingered in the shadows of the streets, and less rats scurried in the open.

As the days passed, his hunger creeped its way back. It clawed its way up his throat, tearing away piece by piece his resistance to feed on fresh human blood.

 _'Do not fight it.'_ the demon within him laughed. _'There is no fighting what you are.'_

Red eyes dilated, and pointed ears perked up at the sound of laughter. A pair of footsteps lingered at the mouth of the alley. Like a wild animal prowling around their prey, Kirk got low. He blended into the shadows as he watched the two entangled in each other's arms.

She was smiling with a chuckle on her lips, and he was more bashful. His face was flushed red with uncertainty as if the woman laughing before him was by sheer dumb luck. There was no way she was there willingly, but then a gentle hand came to cup the side of the man's face.

She looked at him. Her once mirthful smile grew into that of reassuring affection.

Kirk watched. He saw emotions flicker across her features, but he also saw the way her pale skin seemed to glow under the streetlight. Even only a few feet away, he could hear her blood coursing through her body and the hammering of her heartbeat.

His fangs pressed against the inside of his lips with want, and the demon inside him screamed for her. He would have her. He would have her blood.

"Please, Will."

Kirk's footing faltered.

"It's getting cold. We should… you know, head inside." The playful smile was back upon the woman's lips, as she took the man's hand – Will's hand – to pull him away from the alley.

Kirk did not follow them.

His throat had seized at that name, and though the man looked nothing like his friend Will, the name itself was enough to clear his head, and silence the monster once more.

No, this wasn't him. This wasn't who he was. He doesn't kill. Even if the demon forced his hand, he didn't kill innocent people, and that woman… those people… they did nothing wrong. They were innocent, and he was…

Kirk braced himself against the alley wall as a sudden sickness came to pool within his gut. However, this sickness, it wasn't sudden. It wasn't new. It coiled around his bones and tightened in disgust that he was still standing, that he dared to ever move.

Before all this, before he had turned, it was Will that made him move. When Kirk was wary, Will pushed on through with sheer determination, and somehow the two would make it in the end. But that was then and this was now. What would Will say if he could see him now? Will would most likely say that he would fix it. He would say he'd help Kirk like he did before, but he wasn't there. Kirk wouldn't let him be.

Instead Kirk had tried to cure himself first. He had read the data over and over again. He tried things, experimented, even worked with another person who only betrayed him in the end. He tried… He tried and tried, fought himself and tried to move like Will would tell him, but he was tired. He was losing and he was tired of losing.

 _'Don't you dare start crying on me, buddy.'_ he remembered Will saying to him, _'The only time you get to cry is on my wedding day when you get to see me in my tux. Just you wait. I look stunning.'_

Kirk smiled. _'I bet you do.'_

By now Will was most likely married. He would have missed him in his tux, and Tina in her wedding dress. He would have even missed the cake Tina had nearly killed the baker over for not being ready on time. Kirk laughed at the memory of her vividly recounting the tale of her sparring with the poor baker and the entire catering company too.

He missed it. He missed it all.

 _'You don't have to miss it all.'_ another voice came to him. A voice he had not thought of in a long time. _'You might miss some things, but not everything.'_

He didn't have to miss everything. He wouldn't. With a renewed sense, Kirk would move again. Although most of him felt the motion futile, a little part of him hoped that there was still a chance for him to get through this.

He desperately clung to that side of him no matter how small it was. As long as he had it, as long as it was there he would continue moving.

Even so, his stomach still clenched with ferocious hunger. He had to feed. He had to find something, someone to feed off of. Several rats. All the rats he could find and soon.

Without thinking, Kirk hurried through the alleyways to the docks. He sent rats scurrying in his wake, but that didn't slow him down. He was faster, faster than their little feet as he snatched one up in his clutches and quickly sank his teeth in.

Then another, and another, and another. He caught as many as he could, but the hunger within him demanded more – more, always more.

The creatures squealed and cried, writhed in his fingers, but he continued. He drowned out their cries with the sinking of his teeth before realizing the shriek he heard was not a rat, but a human.

With heart pounding, and adrenaline coursing through his veins, he rushed to the noise. It was on the far side of the docks. The place he had last seen Hernan, but the hero was no longer perched at the edge. Instead there was a boat docked, one of decent size, or at least big enough to fit a long shipping container. Its metal door was wide open with an armed man standing at the opening of it.

Looking further in, Kirk could make out hunched figures huddled together inside the container. He could hear muffled cries. He could smell the saline in their tears.

"Get moving!"

Red eyes were drawn to a bulky man as he brusquely shoved the barrel of his gun into a woman's back as if she needed a reminder of the dire situation she was in. Her eyes were blindfolded, and her hands bound together behind her.

As commanded, she took wary steps forward, not knowing where the gaps between the rotting planks were.

She stumbled.

"You fucking, dumb bitch." the man drew his leg back to kick her but the blow never came. There was a cry, a rattling of bullets, and then silence.

"Oi, Ricky? You there?" the man keeping guard over by the container called out to his buddy, but there was no answer.

"Ricky?" he tried again. Silence. "Oi, if any of you's try to fucking escape, I'll blow your fucking head off. Got it?" The man was met with muffled cries and heads nodding before he stepped off the boat to check out what had happened.

"My god." The man's steps hastened when he saw Ricky, face down on the rotting planks. Coming closer, the man could see two distinct puncture wounds on the man's neck.

"What the… shit!"

It was that vampire, that monster that lurked around Gotham. He knew it. It had to be. He swallowed down his fear and instead looked up, trying to spot the creature in the darkness.

"Come out! I know you're there." he had his rifle ready, aimed at moving shadows. "I'm not gonna hurt you… much, I just want to talk."

"Then let's talk."

 _Boom!_

The man was down. The blow was too fast for the man to see, but his fingers grasped the rifle tightly as he blindly blasted a full round. Then silence.

The sound of his own heavy breathing filled his ears, but there was no one in front of him. Did he hit him? Did he shoot the monster once and for all?

"That's no way to greet a stranger." a deft hand clamped down on the man's throat. He moved to aim his rifle up at the monster looming above him, but one quick swipe of the demon's hand, and the riffle was sent flying off the docks.

The creature bared its fangs.

"F-fucking Christ… what are you?" The man sputtered, eyes wide with fear of those bloodied fangs.

"Vengeance." Kirk wasted little time in sinking his fangs in. His steady grip on the man didn't waver even as he tried to thrash away, striking Kirk anywhere he could reach him. But then the hits became less frequent, and then lighter until they stopped altogether. He was gone.

Kirk released him, wiping the trickle of blood with the back of his hand.

The sound of muffled cries reminded him of the hostages still on board. With his hunger sated, his mind had cleared. He needed to help them.

Staggering to his feet, he made it to the ship with the container still open. Red eyes widened at the sight of them. There were more women than he thought, all huddled together in the back of the container crying behind their blindfolds.

"I'm here to help." Kirk tried to assure them before moving to the one closest to him. "May I take the bindings off?"

When she realized he was talking to her, she nodded her head furiously and thrust her bound hands forward for him to release. Kirk did so carefully before he moved onto the next victim. With their hands freed the women were able to quickly pull their blindfolds off only to stare at Kirk in horror. Blood stained his clothes and smeared across his mouth.

Were the papers true? Was he really a vampire? They didn't stay around to find out. As soon as they were freed, they ran and Kirk didn't move to stop them. It wasn't until he came to the last one. She hissed in pain when her wrists were freed, but unlike the others, she didn't move to take off her blindfold, but instead went to feel her ankle. It was then Kirk realized how swollen it was. She must have twisted it.

"Is it broken? Oh god…" she cried. "I can't. I-I can't walk like this."

"Then let me." Kirk moved to lift her. Immediately she stiffened, but there was no use in crying. She couldn't run away even if she wanted to.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked. Her voice trembled as she spoke, and Kirk could hear her heart racing in her chest.

"I'll drop you off at the nearest hospital," Kirk promised. "It won't be long."

As he made to get off the boat, a loud screech pierced the silence. Kirk glanced up at the truck that pulled up near the dock. It was too far away for Kirk to make out the driver, but his eyes were trained on the man standing in the back of the truck. On his shoulder was a rocket launcher. Kirk was sure of it, and even if it wasn't, Kirk wasn't going to stay around to find out.

"You're not going anywhere, demon!" the man cackled. What happened next, Kirk didn't see. Without thinking, he immediately turned away. He held the woman close to his body at the sound of the whizzing squeal of the rocket, and jumped.

He felt the pain before he heard the explosion. Whether it was debris or fire that hit his back, Kirk was uncertain. Nonetheless, he shielded her as best he could, feeling her nails clawing at him in desperation.

"Don't leave me! Please! Don't—"

Kirk's grip was slipping. She was slipping from his hold. No. He couldn't let them take her. He had to… but then she slipped from his grasp. He no longer had her as he realized he too was slipping, sinking.

The water he used to peer down from above now enveloped him in a cold embrace. Do not fight, it seemed to say as the coldness numbed his limbs. Do not fight us.

He didn't. He sunk further into the abyss with a soft smile.

 _'So this is how I go?_ ' Kirk would laugh if he could, although a heavy anchor weighed upon his chest. ' _I'm sorry I never got to see you in your tux, Will. I'm sure you looked stunning.'_


	6. Chapter 6

_'Don't leave me!'_ A pale face flashed before his eyes. He couldn't tell who it was. Blond hair obscured her features as they were suspended in water. Cold icy water that took Kirk's breath away, but he still tried to move closer. He reached his hand out to touch her.

She in turn moved to grab his hand. Her features became clearer as she came closer, the water moving her golden hair aside as to form a halo around her kind smile.

Tina.

She grabbed him. _'Please, don't go! Kirk!'_

Kirk jolted up, chest heaving as he gasped for air.

 _'Tina! Tina, where are you?'_ he frantically looked around, but she was nowhere to be seen. He was no longer surrounded by frigid water but instead he felt cotton beneath his fingers. A blanket? A bed?

Kirk's fingers ran through the material, not wanting to believe it was real, but the fabric remained smooth against his fingertips which he realized where clean. They were no longer stained with blood or even dirt from the streets. He could see the white tips of his nails for once. They weren't green with grime stuck underneath them.

And his shirt… gone. His clean hand carefully felt the bandage tightly wound around his chest and torso. He could barely twist the upper half of his body due to how tight it was, but even if he could, he didn't want to. As soon as he tried, pain seared up his spine.

What happened? Why did his back hurt so much?

Then he remembered. The women. The shipping container. The explosion.

He fell into the water with her when something had struck his back. The woman. Was she okay? Did she drown? Did those men grab her?

He remembered she was torn from his grasp. He had let her go… He couldn't save her. And the rest of them, did he fail them too?

"She's alive."

Kirk was startled by the sudden voice, although he immediately regretted it by the burning sensation the seared along his spine.

"Careful, amigo." a gentle hand came to settle on Kirk's shoulder. "Lo siento. I didn't mean to startle you."

Still trying to settle his rapid heart, Kirk looked up at the man that stood beside him.

"Hernan…"

"Sí, are you okay?" Hernan asked softly. Only when Kirk nodded that he was fine, did Hernan let go. He sat down in the chair beside the bed which Kirk had not noticed was there until now.

He did not notice many things in the room until now other than the bed he was in. He was too worried about what happened to the women than what had happened to him. Which reminded him…

"She's alive?"

"Sí, I found you two as soon as you fell into the water. She's fine, as are the others."

Kirk couldn't help but sigh in relief. That was good. But if she was fine, and he was here… with Hernan…

"You saved us?"

A warm smile tugged upon Hernan's lips. "Sí, you were badly injured so I brought you here. I don't know where you live, but when you're fully healed, I can return you to Gotham."

"Then this is…?" red eyes widened when realization struck him. He was in Hernan's home. In Hernan's room. In Hernan's bed.

He swallowed, with heat rising to his face instead of his spine. Hernan's mirthful chuckle didn't make the situation any better.

"Sí, bienvenido a mi casa." Hernan's smile widened as Kirk's eyes never left his.

 _'You can't be serious?!'_ Why? Why would he bring him here? He – he can't stay here. This was too much. Hernan had already done enough for him. He couldn't take advantage of this hero's kindness anymore.

He moved to stand from the bed only to wince once again by the wound on his back. When he opened his eyes, Hernan's hands were already there to steady him. His hands were warm, almost impossibly hot against his cold bare skin.

 _'Dear god…_ ' Kirk felt beyond embarrassed. He was shirtless, and by the feeling of soft cotton against his legs, he wasn't wearing any pants either.

 _'Where are my clothes?'_

"Cálmate." Hernan's hold on Kirk remained firm. "Quédate quieto; you shouldn't move. You could open the sores on your back."

As instructed, Kirk remained still although it was more out of shock and utter embarrassment than Hernan telling him to.

Superman – Hernan had rescued him, cleaned him, patched up his wounds, and undressed him…

As if reading Kirk's mind, Hernan said. "I promise I didn't look."

"But you did wash me."

"Sí, you were in Gotham Bay, who knows what was in the water."

Kirk knew Hernan's explanation was reasonable but he still couldn't help but feel exposed, vulnerable. As if sensing this too, Hernan let Kirk go in favor of walking to the dresser in the room, and pulling out a large flannel shirt.

"Here, this will be big on you, but hopefully you'll feel better." He held out a button up flannel for Kirk's inspection. The red checkered pattern looked faded and worn, but Kirk would take anything. He gave a small nod of approval to Hernan's silent request to place it on him. He shouldn't be moving around after all.

"Thank you," Kirk said, before he allowed Hernan to carefully slip his arms through the sleeves before buttoning the front of it. The material was warm and soft, and true to Hernan's words it sagged on his shoulders but Kirk didn't mind. He felt better clothed than half naked in front of the other.

"Stay here," Hernan ordered softly. "I'll go get you something to eat." Before Kirk could stop him, Hernan was gone, leaving him alone in the man's room. His room… Kirk for the first time took the room in. The walls were bare, almost white but with a hint of light blue. The color made the room feel warm considering everything else was Spartan – there was sparse furniture or trinkets.

There was a white night stand beside the bed with a clock resting upon it. The other side faced the large windows that currently had the blinds drawn, so Kirk had no way of telling what time of day it was. The clock read ten but he wasn't sure whether that was the morning of afternoon.

On the other side of the room was a worn, navy-blue dresser with small white flowers painted on the corners. Kirk wondered if Hernan had chosen that dresser for himself, or if it was given to him. The style didn't strike him to be Hernan's, but then again, he didn't know Hernan well enough to rule it out entirely.

On the dresser was a framed photograph, the only trinket in the entire room. From where Kirk was he could make it out to be people, but he couldn't distinguish any of their faces. Were they his family? Did he have a family here on earth?

Kirk's train of thought was derailed when the sound of footsteps came down the hallway. A moment later, Hernan returned with a blood bag at hand.

"Here we are." He held it out for Kirk to take which he did. The bag was cold. It was chilled so as to keep it fresh. Kirk wondered if Hernan really did have a fridge of blood bags stored away, but he refrained from asking. Instead he thanked him and took the offered food.

Looking at the bag, the label was scratched off like the ones before it with only an "O" remaining. Kirk wasn't too surprised, and with his stomach clenching from hunger, Kirk sunk his teeth into the bag. Hernan took his spot beside the bed once more and waited patiently for Kirk to finish.

When Kirk was done, Hernan held out another bag in silent question, and reluctantly, Kirk took that one too. However, he was slower this time, trying to make this one last longer than the last. After all, he didn't want to keep taking blood from Hernan. He didn't want to keep taking advantage of the hero's kindness.

"How long was I out for?" Kirk asked to regain his bearings, and to know how much more indebted he was to Hernan. By now it seemed Kirk would always be in Hernan's debt.

"Two days."

Kirk nearly spilt the blood in his mouth at the answer. _'Two days?!'_

Kirk was too shocked to notice the gentle hand that came to wipe at the corner of his mouth. Surprised red eyes watched as Hernan's hand retreated, a stained red napkin in his hand. Kirk must have spilt some blood after all.

Unlike Kirk, Hernan continued on as if nothing happened, "Yes, your back was badly burnt, and you seem malnourished. You needed the rest."

The way Hernan looked at him with dark brows creased and lips drawn, Kirk felt a little admonished. He knew Hernan didn't mean it that way. The way those blue eyes looked over him, lingering on his bandages, Kirk knew Hernan had no ill will against him. Nonetheless, he couldn't help but avert his gaze like a small child.

He was a mess. He knew that. At the same time, how could he not be? With the life he had… the life he lived, it was hard to take care of himself without causing harm to others. He couldn't do that. He couldn't harm innocent people.

"Thank you…" Kirk finally said. "For taking care of me for two days. I'm sorry… I should be going soon."

"Why the rush?" Hernan asked.

"I can't burden you more than I already have."

"You're no burden."

"But I have already—"

Hernan interjected, "Mi casa es su casa. You may stay here as long as you like."

Kirk opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came. He couldn't… he couldn't take Hernan's offer. He couldn't stay here no matter how much Hernan insisted that he did.

Seeing Kirk's silent words trying to break through, Hernan tried to compromise, "At least stay until you're fully healed. Like I promised, I can return you to Gotham after."

Kirk nodded. "Thank you." He could stay for another day or two. His injuries shouldn't take that long to heal. Or at least, Kirk hoped they didn't take long. Even if Hernan made it seem like Kirk could take his time he really shouldn't. He couldn't. His hunger would return, and the demon inside him… Hernan shouldn't have to see that.

Nonetheless, unaware of Kirk's thoughts, Hernan took the empty bags from Kirk. "You should get some rest. I'll be back later to check on you."

Kirk nodded, but he didn't move. He couldn't with his back the way it was.

Instead he said softly. "Thank you…"

Hernan smiled. "De nada."

Then once again, Kirk was alone.

* * *

Kirk did not know when, but some time after Hernan had left, he had fallen back asleep. His back ached as he shifted to his other side, but it felt better than the last time he woke up. Perhaps he'd be able to leave sooner than expected. However, thoughts of leaving left him when he saw Hernan sitting beside the bed.

The light from the bedside table casted a dim glow over the sleeping figure as an open book rested on the hero's lap. Hernan's pants were dark along with his high-collar shirt – both cloaked him well in the dark room. However, Kirk could still make out the tanned skin and the beginning of strong muscles from the top few buttons of Hernan's shirt being undone.

Kirk swallowed. He mentally shook himself as he averted his gaze towards the man's sleeping face. His temple rested on a closed fist as those eyes looked haggard. Kirk didn't think a god could look so worn, but the way Hernan sat beside him he looked… normal. He looked human.

As if sensing Kirk's gaze on him, unearthly blue eyes slowly opened. They didn't blink awake nor squint, but slowly open as if the man had only been resting his eyes, nothing more. When their eyes met, a languid smile crossed Hernan's lips.

"Feel better?" he asked.

"Yes, thank you," Kirk said, watching as Hernan nodded softly. Once again, Hernan closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then righted himself.

"Good, it's time to change your bandaging." He closed his book and set it aside on the night table beside Kirk. Carefully, with a grimace, Kirk sat up, and with Hernan's help, was able to swing his legs over the edge of the bed.

Red eyes widened in surprise when Hernan turned around and bent down so that his shoulders were at level with Kirk's hands. "Grab on."

"I… I can walk." Kirk insisted, but Hernan remained where he was by Kirk's feet.

"You shouldn't. This will be an easier way to carry you, unless you'd prefer me to throw you over my shoulder." Hernan smiled over his shoulder at a more than embarrassed Kirk. Being carried like a sack of potatoes not only sounded unpleasant for his back, but also his dignity – not that a piggyback was any better. It was slightly better, but not by much.

Nonetheless, Kirk moved to wrap his arms around Hernan's neck, the movement easy and painless. That was until he jolted at the sudden feeling of Hernan's hand wrapping around his thigh.

Hernan stilled. "Are you okay?"

Kirk shifted, reigned in his bearings once more before tightening his grip around the man's shoulders.

"Yes… sorry."

Kirk could have sworn he heard a huff of a near silent laugh escape Hernan, but before he could comment on it, he felt himself being suddenly lifted. His legs were wrapped around the hero's waist and his hands tightly clutched at the man's shoulder. Hernan had a firm hold on the underside of Kirk's knees as he carefully walked them over to the connected bathroom across the way.

Luckily the journey was not far, but that did not make the experience any less embarrassing. Thank god, he had some form of pants on, Kirk noted belatedly. Although they were not long, he had them and that's what mattered.

When they entered, Hernan turned to set Kirk down on the counter top. As soon as he felt the smooth surface beneath him, Kirk gratefully let go and adjusted himself fully onto the beige marble. His legs were shortly released as well.

"Doing alright?" Hernan asked as he moved around the bathroom collecting a towel and a first aid kit.

"Yes, I'm okay, thanks," Kirk assured. Being carried the way he was, although embarrassing, was physically painless for the most part.

"Good." Hernan returned to Kirk's side, and after a moment of Kirk just watching him prepare the gauze he asked. "Can I remove the shirt?"

Kirk tried not to look startled by the question, but at last conceded with a nod. He took his time getting the buttons free of their holes, moving down the shirt as Hernan patiently waited beside him. He didn't move to help him which Kirk was more than grateful for.

With the flannel slipped off, Hernan began to carefully remove the bandaging around Kirk's torso. Kirk couldn't see his back, but he could feel the sudden irritation that began to burn at the removal of the gauze. He brought his legs up to his chest and turned towards the mirror so it was easier for Hernan to see the extent of his injuries.

"Believe it or not, it looks better, amigo," Hernan assured. "Most are still open, but some are starting to scab."

Kirk nodded. "Burns?"

"Bad ones, but you should be fine. You seem to heal faster than a human at least."

 _'Because I'm not human.'_

Kirk remained silent as Hernan began to clean the blisters. A hiss left him at the first sting of alcohol but he bit his lip for the rest. It seemed like forever, but he knew Hernan was moving as fast as he could, yet being careful to not open any scabs or cause more pain than necessary.

To keep his mind off the pain, Kirk watched as Hernan worked through the reflection of the mirror. His dark brows were furrowed and blue eyes focused on the task at hand. His touch was careful yet deliberate, and he always made a slight face by scrunching up his nose when he went to throw away the used gauze and reached for a new one. It wasn't a face of disgust at the blood and pus that covered the gauze, but more of concern that there was so much of it. It was a face of frustration at how bad his injury really was.

Before he knew it, Hernan was done. He padded him with clean gauze, and bound Kirk's chest and torso once more.

"Thank you." Kirk said when all was done.

"De nada." Hernan moved to throw away the bloodied towel and old gauze.

Kirk slipped the flannel shirt back on. He had to push the sleeves up, bunching the excess fabric to the crook of his elbow to free his hands. The shirt was large on him like Hernan had said, but he was thankful for it. It didn't cling to his bandages, and the soft material kept him warm.

This time, as he started to button the top few buttons, Hernan came over and began from the bottom and worked his way up to where Kirk had done the first three.

"I think I'll try to walk this time," Kirk said, and swiftly added. "With you help, please."

Hernan's mouth closed, his protest dying at the please Kirk had added. He sighed. "Alright."

"Thank you," Kirk said before looking down over the edge to see how far down he had to go. Meanwhile Hernan waited patiently beside him. His hands were tucked in both pockets as if to keep them from reaching out to toss Kirk over his shoulder and get it over with. However, Kirk was determined to make it on his own.

Carefully, with his hands curled around the counter top, he eased himself off. The tile floor was cold against his bare feet, but it was nothing compared to the pavement of the docks.

When Kirk was on his feet with one hand firmly on the counter for support, Hernan reached out to support his other side. He offered Kirk his arm to hold onto, and surprisingly, holding onto it felt like holding onto a rock. Kirk tried not to think too much about it. He tried not to think whether it took much effort on Hernan's part to concentrate on holding his arm steady or whether it was nothing for the hero.

Nonetheless, Kirk began to make his way out of the bathroom. He didn't want to lean on Hernan too much, but in the spaces where Kirk had nothing else to hold onto, he found himself leaning into Hernan more than he wanted to. Hernan didn't seem to mind. He remained steady, allowing Kirk to use him for support when he wanted or needed to.

By the time Kirk made it back to the bed, he was admittedly out of breath. He let go of Hernan's arm in favor of placing it over his chest as if to slow his racing heart.

"Are you okay?" Hernan asked which Kirk silently nodded. Yes, he was fine. Winded, but he would be okay. After a moment or two of catching his breath, Hernan seemed satisfied enough to leave Kirk alone. He was only gone for a few minutes before he returned with another blood bag.

"Here, you need to regain your strength." He held it out for Kirk to take. Kirk begrudgingly took it. Mentally he was keeping track of how many he had taken. So far he's taken five. This would be his sixth.

As Kirk ate, Hernan returned to his seat next to the bed, and picked up his book once more from the side table. However, he didn't open it. He just balanced it on his lap while he watched Kirk feed. Or was he watching? Those unearthly blue eyes lingered over the spot where his bandages laid, seeming to scan him for something.

He most likely had x-ray vision, although Kirk was too shy to ask. Instead he asked. "What book were you reading?"

"It's a collection of old Latin fables. Would you like to hear it?"

Kirk didn't know what to say. He wouldn't mind it, but he didn't want to burden Hernan. He must have things he needed to do, or better ways to spend his time than reading to him.

However, before Kirk could say anything, Hernan was already thumbing through the pages before he found the page he wanted. He cleared his throat, and under the dim light of the lamp beside the bed, Hernan began to read.

Kirk listened. It was a romantic tale of two lovers who couldn't be together. It reminded Kirk of Romeo and Juliet, but he wasn't really paying attention to the story if he was honest with himself. He was listening… just not to the story. Instead he focused on Hernan's voice.

He could hear the deep timber of Hernan's voice. He heard the soft rolling of his 'r's although what he read was English, but Kirk didn't mind. He found comfort in Hernan's rich tone, and like everything else about the man, it was warm.

Hernan got to the very end of the story before pausing to peer over the pages of his book. Kirk was asleep. His breathing was soft, and his face relaxed.

The dim lighting of the room made Kirk's pale skin seem gold, and Hernan couldn't help the small smile that crept over his features at the sight of it.

He silently shut the book and laid it aside before getting up to raise the covers higher so they completely covered Kirk. The man was always cold to the touch, but Hernan hoped that even a blanket would be able to give Kirk a little warmth.

"Que tengas dulces sueños, mi amigo." Hernan whispered into the dark before turning off the light.

Suddenly the phone in the other room began to ring. Hernan rushed to it before it could wake Kirk up.

"Speaking?" He said, keeping an ear out for a change of Kirk's breathing. It hadn't changed. The man was still asleep.

"Yes." Hernan said. "Do what you must, but she is not to know of this."

The conversation lasted less than a minute and all the while Kirk remained asleep in the other room.

* * *

A/N: Cálmate - calm down or easy there  
Quédate quieto - stay still  
Que tengas dulces sueños, mi amigo - rest well, my friend


	7. Chapter 7

Kirk awoke to a dark room. His only source of light was a sliver of sunlight from the gap between the blinds. It was daytime.

The sound of sizzling and then a pop could be heard from down the hall. By the smell of eggs and cooking fat, Kirk knew it was surely morning.

Was Hernan cooking?

Curious, Kirk pushed himself up. His back felt immensely better from the night before. It was only sore at best, but he was able to twist his torso and stand on his own two feet with little pain. Hopefully that meant he would be completely healed soon and out of Hernan's hair.

He opened the door and peered around the corner. The hall was short and lead into what seemed like a sitting room. Like the bedroom, the living room was sparsely furnished with a dark couch and a simple rectangular red rug.

Kirk couldn't see more beyond that, and wondered if it would be okay to venture out of the room. He had only seen the room where he was staying and the bathroom so far. He really didn't know how big this place was or even where they were exactly, beyond the fact that it was Hernan's home.

The sizzling sound continued and this time Kirk smelled bacon. His mouth did not water anymore at the smell, but it did bring back memories of Tina bringing in cooked bacon to the lab when she knew he and Will had been working overtime. Even Will could cook bacon without burning it. Eggs and bacon were the only edible things Will knew how to make, and when Tina was fast asleep, Kirk would sit in the kitchen with a warm cup of tea as Will moved around the room humming to himself.

A wistful smile crossed Kirk's features, but he tried not to linger on the memory for too long. Instead of Will humming in the kitchen, it was someone else. Most likely Hernan. The words were Spanish, but the melody sweet and rich with the timber of Hernan's voice.

The song made him feel like it was okay to take a step further, though he didn't enter the sitting room completely. The room was bathed in morning light, and so Kirk remained in the shadow of the hallway simply listening to the song.

"Are you hungry?" the singing faded into that of a hum, and before Kirk stood Hernan with a warm smile.

Kirk shook his head lightly. He didn't mean to stop Hernan's singing. He quite liked it, but he refrained from saying so.

"Ah, the sun," Hernan said, thinking it was the sunlight that had Kirk so quiet. He swiftly moved to draw the blinds together, dimming the room. The room was not in complete darkness, since the blinds were sheer instead of opaque like those in the bedroom. They did, however, take away enough of the intensity of the sun for Kirk to fully enter the sitting room.

From there he could see there was a desk in the corner with another single framed picture, and newspaper clippings tapped to the wall. The name Luthor was printed in all bold, making Kirk wonder what interest Superman had in Luthor. Did he know Kirk was one of Luthor's boys in college? Was that his alternative motive for taking him in?

"Is that better?" Hernan asked, and after the patient look Hernan sent his way, Kirk tried to push away his doubts.

"Yes, thank you."

Hernan nodded, his smile returning. "Please, come and sit. I was just cooking something to eat. Are you hungry?"

"No, I'm fine, thank you." Kirk followed Hernan to the connected kitchen, and sat down at the small table.

"Sleep well?" Hernan asked.

"Yes, thank you. I hope I'm not taking your bed."

Hernan smiled. "It's fine. I don't need to sleep."

"Oh…" Kirk almost asked why he had one then, but perhaps that was an insensitive question, and so he kept the question to himself. "I really wouldn't mind the couch."

"Nonsense, you need it more than I do," Hernan insisted. "How is your back feeling?"

"Better, thank you."

"Good, I'll check it after breakfast." Hernan served himself a plate of eggs and bacon before coming to sit across from Kirk.

"Are you sure I can't get you anything?" Hernan asked one last time.

"Thank you, but I'm fine."

Hernan nodded, and began to eat. From where Kirk was sitting, he could smell the added spices Hernan had added to the eggs, which made Kirk wonder for a moment, did Hernan walk into supermarkets unnoticed? Did he disguise himself somehow, despite how many times people have caught him on camera?

As if hearing Kirk's thoughts, Hernan said. "I help this old widow who lives not too far from here. Her husband died a year ago, and her sons have moved on. In return for helping her around the farm, she gives me some of the eggs, and slabs of bacon."

"Are you a mind reader?" Kirk finally asked. Hernan had seemed to answer his unspoken questions more often than not.

Hernan laughed. "No, I'm not a mind reader. You just wear your heart on your sleeve."

Kirk averted his gaze uneasily.

"That's not a bad thing." Hernan tried to amend. "I quite appreciate it. I run across too many people who speak too much but never mean a word they say. You might not speak much, but you at least mean every word."

Kirk shook his head. "You give me too much credit."

"I think you don't give yourself enough," Hernan replied, and although Kirk knew Hernan was trying to compliment him he just… couldn't see what the other saw. Instead he changed the subject.

"Did she give you the dresser in your room too?"

Hernan laughed. "Sí, she did. The things with flowers on them are most likely from her."

"So you like to frequent garage sales?"

"It's not exactly easy to walk into IKEA as Superman," Hernan explained, which brought a small smile from Kirk at last. The image itself was comical.

"So everything here is secondhand?" Kirk looked around, almost impressed. It would explain why there was sparse furniture and why everything seemed so mismatched.

"Sí, flying through the sky with a couch is less conspicuous, believe it or not."

Kirk laughed. He supposed people would have to look up, or if Hernan flew high enough, they wouldn't see him.

"The birds might give me a strange look, but it is much easier to take things from the side of the road than local stores."

Kirk nodded in understanding. Also, there was a question of money. Superman doesn't exactly get paid for his services, no matter how great they might be, and Hernan didn't seem to really have an alternate identity. Maybe he has one when he helps the old widow down the lane so to speak, but nonetheless, it all started to make sense.

Now that Kirk looked more closely at things, the furniture did seem a little worn, but it added character. It was almost like when you move out of your parent's place for the first time. The furniture in the first apartment was always scarce, and there was no coordination or sense of design in anything whatsoever. It was whatever was cheap, and light enough to make it up the stairs.

Which made Kirk wonder... were they in a house, or an apartment? The place looked big for an apartment, but small for a house as well. From what he had seen from the kitchen and the sitting room, it seemed to only have one room, a kitchen, a bedroom, and a bath. All anyone would need if they lived alone.

It reminded Kirk of the picture of the people in the bedroom. Did Hernan have a family? He couldn't have been alone all his life. He must have made connections like he did with his widowed neighbor. However, the way Hernan had looked at him on the docks that night he asked him to stay, Kirk had a feeling Hernan was very much alone.

"Come, let me change those bandages," Hernan spoke up. By then he had already cleared the table and cleaned up after himself. Kirk nodded, and followed Hernan's lead.

In the bathroom, Kirk began unbuttoning the red shirt. It was then he inspected the shorts he was wearing since he hadn't before. They were black and form fitting briefs. It cut off mid-thigh as the rest was just pale ghostly skin. He averted his gaze from his legs, and instead touched his bandages gingerly. It didn't matter how he looked like a walking corpse. His past life was gone, and his new one didn't require anyone other than himself.

Then again, there was Hernan. Hernan didn't shy away from him, but instead came to undo the bandaging around Kirk's torso.

"You're looking much better, mi amigo." Hernan said, while Kirk noted the term he used for him – 'Friend'.

"Does it hurt anymore?" Hernan asked.

"No, it just itches."

"Hm, well I don't think I need to wrap you up this time." Hernan said as he began to throw away the old bandaging and putting away the new ones he no longer needed.

Kirk began buttoning up the shirt. "Does that mean I can go back to Gotham?"

Hernan paused, but only for a moment before he said. "I actually wanted to ask for a favor."

Kirk look up from his buttons to Hernan who had placed everything away and was now looking back at him expectantly. A favor? Well after all Hernan had done for him, Kirk didn't see how he could say no. Instead he offered a small nod for Hernan to elucidate, although a voice in the back of his mind said this was something trivial. It was a way for Hernan to keep him here.

"I will be going away for a few days, but the woman I told you about earlier, she'll need some help. I was wondering if you could help her in my place."

"Would she be okay with that?" Kirk asked, wary of what the widow would think of him as soon as she saw him. His skin pale and blood red eyes frightened most people.

"Sí, she's very kind, and very much needs the help."

Kirk nodded. "What about the sunlight?"

"You should be fine. I'll take you to meet her tomorrow, and show you what you have to do."

Kirk wasn't so sure. He was wary of people. He knew what they saw when they first looked at him, and rightfully so. They had every right to be scared of him, a monster.

Nonetheless, Hernan had Kirk dressed from head to toe in a long-sleeved shirt that was too big for him, long pants with a belt to keep it up around his narrow hips, and a brimmed hat. The hat reminded him of the ones grandmas would wear on Sundays for Church.

He looked ridiculous judging by Hernan's amused smile, but he did owe Hernan. After what Hernan had done for him, wearing a ridiculous outfit was the least he could do.

"Here," Hernan handed Kirk a dark pair of sunglasses – to cover the red pigment of his eyes, Kirk suspected.

"We're going at dusk so there should still be some light out," Hernan explained. Kirk nodded, and placed them on.

Once outside, Kirk could see that they were in a house, not an apartment. It was small, with an old roof and paint peeling off the wooden panels. Hernan seemed to not mind this. He continued down the dirt path with Kirk beside him.

The evening air was cool against Kirk's face, and the sky was beginning to turn dark with only flecks of day still streaking across the sky.

"Are you okay?" Hernan asked after about half a mile of peaceful silence between them.

"Yes, my back is fine, thank you."

"I meant your exposure to the sun, but it's good to know that your back is okay too."

"Oh… well it's not like the movies where I will catch on fire. I just can't stand outside for long is all."

"I see, sunburn?"

Kirk laughed. "Yes, sort of like that."

It was another half a mile before Kirk saw the beginnings of a wooden fence, and a few minutes later he could see the dirt road begin to veer off and up to a small two-story house.

The color was light blue like Hernan's bedroom walls, only with white trimmings. There was no hint of chipping, nor cracks in the paint. It was clean. A pair of work boots beside the door was the only old looking thing on the porch.

Hernan knocked on the screen door.

"Coming!" Hernan stepped back as Kirk stood behind him, wary of what the woman would say when she saw him. Sounds of slow footsteps could be heard from the other side before the door swung open to reveal an older woman.

A smile crossed her features as she reached a wrinkled hand to touch the side of Hernan's face. "Yes, it's you Hernan," she confirmed. "You've still got your beard."

"Sí, buenas tardes, señora. I brought along a friend. This is Kirk." Hernan stepped aside to allow Kirk to see her. When her milky grey-blue eyes fell upon him, Kirk realized with a state she must be blind.

"Evening, Ms," Kirk immediately addressed, hoping his surprise didn't show through.

The older woman laughed. "You have a friend, Hernan? You surprise me."

Hernan huffed in a mock of offense, but the older woman just swatted his shoulder. "It's nice to meet you, Kirk. You have chosen a nice man."

 _'Chosen?'_ Kirk's eyes widened in surprised. "Oh we're just—"

"Friends? I know." the old woman smiled. "But don't take too long. Before you know it, you'll be as old as me."

"I don't know what you're getting up to in your book club, señora, but we've still got plenty of years ahead of us," Hernan teased. Kirk looked up at Hernan's smiling face. He didn't quite outright deny her, but perhaps with a woman her age, such a thing was impossible.

"Please, come in you two. It's getting cold out. Why so late, Hernan?" she let them inside as the two followed her.

"Sorry, señora, but it was the only time that worked for my friend."

"Ah, he's a hard worker then. Good," she said. "Well the cows are waiting for you. Hop to it. I'll have some tea waiting for the both of you when you're done."

She promised, and Hernan thanked her before leading Kirk out to the back of the house. The back porch was very much like the front, but it had a hanging swing to the side.

The path had slabs of stone which led to a garden, and a dirt path leading to a barn. The rest was just fields of some crop Kirk didn't recognize. The stalks were green, and most likely still growing. Kirk imagined by summer they would be towering over him.

"This way." Hernan took Kirk's hand in his. It surprised him, the warm hand in his, but he didn't pull away nor take his hand back. Instead, he followed behind Hernan thinking maybe the path was rockier than he thought. Maybe Hernan was just offering a hand for support to get through the beaten path, but the dirt path was smooth, with their feet kicking up small dust clouds every now and then.

When they reached the barn, Hernan let go of Kirk's hand in favor of turning on the light switch that was to the side. By then the sun was gone, and the barn was illuminated by artificial light.

The flickering of the light brought a series of loud moos as Kirk moved instinctively behind Hernan. There were only two, but they were quite large, and Kirk had always been a city boy.

"They won't hurt you," Hernan promised. "This one here is Agatha. She's a gentle giant, and too old to produce milk so you don't have to worry about milking her. You only need to feed her. And the one on the far side is Betty. She's the only one you have to milk."

Kirk nodded, but didn't offer anymore. He knew the cows would most likely not hurt him, but that didn't make their size seem any less intimidating to him.

Hernan moved to grab a pail hanging from the side, and a wooden stool to sit on. "There are machines to do this, but they scare Betty, and they're expensive. It's not worth getting one for just one cow."

Hernan explained as Kirk listened to him. Seeing Hernan grab the pail and stool, Betty came over. She mooed at him, causing Kirk to shy away from her, and stay behind Hernan as a shield.

"It's okay." Hernan sat down on the stool. "You'll be fine. Here, give me your hand."

Hernan held out his hand for Kirk to take. Kirk didn't want to.

"I promise, you'll be okay. I'm right here." Hernan's hand remained out for Kirk to take, and after looking at the cow and then back to the offered hand, Kirk swallowed down his fear and took it.

Gently, Hernan's hand covered Kirk's so Kirk's palm was raised over Betty's matted hide. Blue eyes watched Kirk's features, making sure he was fine before he guided Kirk's hand to touch the cow. Betty didn't move. She only blinked and swatted away a few flies with her tail.

"See, she won't hurt you," Hernan said and let go of Kirk's hand. Kirk didn't pull away. Instead he ran his fingers softly over Betty's hide. Her hair was short and spotted with blotches of black against white.

She mooed.

"I think she likes you," Hernan remarked.

"I wouldn't say that," Kirk replied, but he wasn't as scared as he was before. Instead he watched Hernan as he began to milk Betty. All the while, Hernan explained what he was doing the entire time, giving Kirk a few pointers here and there as Betty stayed still for him.

Hernan seemed to be in his element. He knew what he was doing, which surprised Kirk.

"Did you grow up on a farm?" Kirk asked, curious now as to the life Superman lived before he was Superman.

"Sí, but I wasn't really in charge of the cows. I did mostly field work," Hernan said. "Alright, Betty, you're all done."

He patted her side before grabbing the pail of milk and setting it aside.

"Now we feed them."

Hernan moved to a ladder in the barn going up to what Kirk would imagine was the loft. "Up here there's some hay you'll need to feed the horses. The cows get corn feed, and so do the chickens."

"How many times a week do you come here, or is it every day?"

"I come about every other day if I can."

"And how long do you expect to be gone?"

"No more than three days, so you only have to do this once."

Kirk nodded. He wondered where Hernan was going, but he didn't want to ask. Instead he followed Hernan through the motions of working on the farm. There wasn't a lot – most of it was just tending to the various farm animals that roamed around the property.

When they finished, the older woman had tea waiting for them on the back porch as promised.

"You two have been working hard. I can smell the sweat off of you," she remarked, even though it was only Kirk who was perspiring. After all, he was dressed in warm clothes and helped Hernan do some heavy lifting.

"Muchos gracias, señora." Hernan took the offered glass, and handed it to Kirk before taking his own.

Kirk couldn't drink it, but he figured he could pour a little out in the grass without her noticing. He didn't want her to think he wasn't grateful for her kindness after all.

"I hope you like it," she said. "Kirk, this may be an odd request, but could you go inside and wash your face? I'd like to get the shape of it."

Remembering the way she had touched Hernan's face earlier, Kirk understood. She wanted to know the shape of his face so she knew who she was letting inside her home.

"Yes, of course." Kirk complied. He returned a moment later with his face cleaned, and glasses and hat off. The sun had gone down, and thus he no longer needed them. He sat on the back-porch swing beside her so the older woman could reach his face without her having to get up.

At the feeling of the seat shifting back, and the chains rattling a bit, she knew Kirk was there.

"Your hand, please." She held out her wrinkled hand for Kirk to take. "Now please, guide me to your cheek."

Kirk did. He carefully raised their joined hands so that her knuckles may brush against his cheekbone. She unfurled her thin fingers to press her warm palm against his cheek before bringing the other one up to frame his face. Slowly her fingers glided over his features, feeling every curve.

Her touch was gentle, and the warmth from her small hands reminded him of Tina. He was reminded of that night he had asked Tina to look at him. He wanted her to look at him and not at the cancer, and she did. She had looked at him, touched his face in reassurance that she saw nothing else but him.

What would the older woman see? Would she feel his fangs that pressed against the inside of his lip, or remark the unnatural coldness of his skin? Would she see a monster, or was there something more to him?

Finally, before his thoughts could overwhelm him, she came to pat his cheek softly.

"Thank you, you have a kind face," she told him, which made Kirk smile although he didn't believe so. He knew she was most likely just being kind, but he nonetheless thanked her.

"Meanwhile, this one here has a face of a trouble maker." she referred back to Hernan who scoffed in turn.

"I believe you used the term heartbreaker, señora." Hernan winked to which she laughed.

"If you break this kind man's heart, I will stab you with one of my knitting needles."

Kirk shook his head lightly, baffled by where this was coming from.

"I wouldn't dare, Abuela," Hernan replied. However, this time his blue eyes focused on Kirk, and the look in them was something Kirk wasn't expecting.

Kirk looked away.

"Your cheeks are warmer dear." she smiled as she withdrew her hand. "You _friends_ go run off now. I hope to see you soon, Kirk."

They said their goodbyes as the woman gave Kirk a warm hug. Her body was frail and she was much shorter than Kirk that he had to lean down to reach her.

"Oh, you're much too thin." she tutted. "You need to feed him more, Hernan."

"I'm working on it, Abuela. You and your book club stay out of trouble now."

"I can't promise that." she laughed, and Hernan hugged her in return.

When they were far enough away with the house out of sight, Hernan asked. "Would you like me to fly us back?"

Kirk shook his head. "No thank you, I don't mind walking."

They walked in silence. It wasn't uncomfortable, but kirk couldn't help but think back on the things Hernan had said. He didn't correct her when she implied that they were more than friends, and then Hernan had taken his hand back there when he didn't need to. Then there was the look Hernan had given him on the back porch.

Hernan's smile was warm, but his blue eyes sparked with something Kirk hadn't seen in a long time. It was the kind of look he saw Will give Tina, or sometimes Tina to Will. It was the way Jeremy had looked at him from across a chess table. The black pawn pressed against the corners of his lips as the flames of the fireplace flickered across the man's face in a golden glow.

Then Jeremy had kissed him, and Kirk's lonely heart accepted it whole heartedly. His cage of bones accepted another beating heart beside it. The feeling of a warm body pressed against his, and for once not having the desire to sink his teeth into it was liberating. For the first time since he had turned, he didn't want blood from this living being before him. For the first time since he had turned, he felt human.

Remembering that look, remembering the feeling it bad brought with him, and seeing it now on Hernan… Kirk swallowed, and trained his eyes upon the dirt road because he couldn't look at Hernan. He couldn't be looked at like that again. He couldn't… he couldn't be fooled. He couldn't be blinded again by his loneliness.

Then again, perhaps it was Hernan this time who was blinded. Perhaps Hernan only felt this way because he was lonely. He couldn't really like Kirk. After all, the way he looked like a ghost with red eyes… It wasn't possible. With Jeremy, he was using him. He kissed him to win him over emotionally, but with Hernan, Kirk doubted that was what he wanted to do. Hernan was just… Hernan was Superman. Couldn't he have anyone he wanted?

"Are you okay?" Hernan's sudden question derailed Kirk's thoughts. He looked up at Hernan for a moment. The smile was innocent, and those blue eyes were that of worry. Was Hernan reading him again?

Before he knew it, Kirk found himself asking. "Are you lonely?"

Blue eyes widened a little, and the smile faltered. Kirk had thrown him off.

"I'm not lonely," Hernan insisted. "I have my neighbor who you just met."

Kirk shook his head. "You know what I mean, Hernan."

Hernan looked away. His lips were pressed thin and he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He looked like he was filled to the brim with things he wanted to say, but was either too scared to say them or didn't know how to. Kirk wasn't sure. He wasn't good at reading people, or at least not Hernan. Not the way Hernan seemed to always read him.

"I like your company, Kirk," Hernan finally said after a moment or two of awkward silence – or maybe it was just awkward for Kirk. "I… it's true that I feel different. I know I am different. I have powers people have only written about, and never in my life have I met anyone else like me. Not until I met you."

"I'm not like you, Hernan. You're a hero. I'm just… I'm a monster. I'm a man who played god, and turned himself into a beast. We're nothing alike."

"You saved all those people at the docks. Would a monster do that?"

"You saved them," Kirk corrected, "and me. You're the hero of this story. You should have just let me drown – then I'd be free of this curse."

Hernan grew deadly quiet. His hands curled into fists, and his eyes hardened in a way Kirk had never seen before. He was furious. Kirk was afraid Hernan was going to yell at him, tell him he was wrong, but then those fingers slowly unfurled, and the shoulders sagged. His lips were no longer pressed into a thin line, and those eyes softened – not in warmth but defeat.

"I'm sorry you feel that way," Hernan finally said. "But I don't regret saving you. I hope one day you won't regret it either."

Kirk stopped in his tracks, but Hernan kept on walking. He didn't stop to turn around, but just kept on walking as Kirk watched that broad back go. Seeing it for some reason infuriated Kirk. After saying such a thing, he was just going to walk away?

"Why?" Kirk shouted at the retreating back. He wasn't one to shout, or ever yell, but he wanted answers. He wanted Hernan to listen, or at least stop and explain to himself.

"Why, Hernan?" Kirk yelled again, and this time Hernan stopped. With a deep breath, Hernan turned back to look at Kirk. He just looked at him. Blue eyes remained on Kirk's shaking frame, his chest heaving as his heart pounded furiously against his rib cage. For once, Kirk was angrier than the demon caged in him. He was livid. He was confused. Then when Hernan began to walk up to him, closing the distance between them, Kirk realized he was scared.

"How many times do I have to tell you?" Hernan reached Kirk. He seemed to tower over him as Kirk had to crane his neck up to see those blue eyes looking at him. They were warm; they were soft. They were nothing like Jeremy's.

"You were hungry," Hernan said, a smile coming to grace his features once more. The smile left no room for argument. Kirk couldn't say anything, but only that he hoped he never saw Hernan angry again. He hoped to only see him smile. After all he had done for him, Hernan deserved to smile.

Then Hernan's hand reached for his, their fingers intertwining, and his palm warm against his cold hand.

"Let's go home."

* * *

A/N: The one line: "I'm a man who played god, and turned himself into a beast", is thanks to my lovely beta, Dipkipp, and I credit them because I really do like the line, and the line I had before was a comparison I didn't quite like myself either. So thank you, friend, for suggesting this one instead.


	8. Chapter 8

Hernan had left in the morning while Kirk was asleep. When Kirk woke up, he found a letter by the bedside table addressed to him. Hernan had promised to be back soon, and told him there was food in the fridge for Kirk if he ever got hungry, was the gist of the letter.

Kirk flopped back upon the covers. Without Hernan there, what was he supposed to do? For some reason, being in this house alone was lonelier than being on the streets of Gotham. At least there he had the rats for company, whereas here he only had himself. He only had his own thoughts to keep him company.

Kirk didn't want to snoop around Hernan's things while he was gone, so he left most everything untouched, not that there was much to see. Hernan had sparse furnishing. Remembering Hernan's tale of how he got said furniture made Kirk smile. It must have been some sight.

Softly, Kirk treaded into the bathroom to check his back. It was only ever Hernan that had seen it. Kirk was never able to see it himself, and he trusted that Hernan would tell him the truth.

Searching through the drawers, he found a small hand mirror, which he used it to see his reflection in the larger mirror in the bathroom. His back was covered in splotches of red, but nothing more. There were no more itchy scabs to speak of nor any signs of burnt scar tissue. The skin was smooth and clear, and still very much pale against the stark contrast of red. For the most part his skin had repaired itself remarkably. Part of the bat-serum still doing its job Kirk supposed.

He went to put the hand mirror away when he caught sight of his reflection once more. He had gotten thin. His cheeks were a little hollow, and the contours of his ribs could be seen. He really was a walking skeleton. How Hernan had seen anything in him was beyond him, and yet Hernan had held his hand all the way back to his home.

Even when they walked through the door, Hernan hadn't let go. He didn't let go until they had reached the bedroom, where Hernan smiled at kirk and raised their joined hands to his lips to press a gentle kiss to the back of it.

"Buenas noches, Kirk," Hernan said. The words tickled the back of Kirk's knuckles causing Kirk to avert his gaze.

"Good night, Hernan." Kirk had nonetheless returned. He took his hand back, and closed the bedroom door so he could change in peace. By morning Hernan was gone. He didn't say a word, but only left a note.

Kirk wondered if he wished Hernan had woken him up to say goodbye, or at least say something about the night before. Instead Kirk was left to dwell upon the topic by himself with no answer from Hernan other than the fact that he was hungry.

Speaking of which, Kirk got redressed in Hernan's clothes and checked the fridge as instructed. The clothes were too big on him. The pants hung low even with a belt, and the bottom of his shirt came down to almost his knees. But as promised, Hernan had left three bags in the fridge. One for each day he was gone, Kirk supposed. He tried not to count all three to the never-ending list of favors he owed Hernan.

The one favor he was doing now for Hernan was a snowflake on the very tip of an iceberg. How he was going to repay the rest, Kirk didn't know.

The rest of the night was spent thumbing through the book Hernan had read to him the other night. When Kirk grew tired of the cheesy lines, he set the book back where he found it next to the picture frame.

It was then, Kirk looked more closely at it for those blue eyes… they were Hernan's. He was sure of it. Although the face they belonged to was that of a younger boy, perhaps a teenager with a grim expression. He was the only one not smiling.

The other three in the picture smiled. An older man and a woman stood behind Hernan, and a girl around Hernan's age sat beside him. She was in a wheelchair. Even so, she seemed to smile the brightest of the four.

He assumed this was Hernan's family. He had a mother who had striking features. She looked so young, yet held a strength behind her eyes that spoke of years. Even so, her smile was warm, and loving the way Kirk imagined a mother's would be.

The man beside her looked older, weathered by years of toil. He was stocky in stature, but his features were kind.

Overall, the family looked normal. It made Kirk wonder how Hernan came to be. Perhaps he'd ask him when he returned. For now, he placed the picture aside and got ready to fulfill his promise to Hernan while he was away.

Kirk traveled down to the older woman's house at dusk. Like the first time, he wore a large brimmed hat, glasses, and long pants and shirt. He covered himself best he could for the last dying rays of day. Although she was only a mile down the road, the journey seemed longer than it did last time, but Kirk tried not to think about it too much.

When he reached the property, he knocked on the screen door. She was there to greet him a few moments later, her smile just as bright as the first time he met her.

"Hernan is that you?"

"I'm sorry, Ms., it's Kirk. Hernan couldn't come today." Kirk explained, and leaned down for the kind woman to feel his face. Her frail fingers felt the lining of his jaw and his high cheek bones with familiarity.

"It's good to see you again, Kirk. Please come in." She let him enter, and guided him to the back of the house. "Did Hernan show you what to do?"

"Yes, Ms."

"Good, thank you for your help. I'll have tea waiting for you again when you're done."

Kirk thanked her and went down to the barn. His presence sent the cows mooing. Kirk was still a stranger to them, but the scent of Hernan lingered on the clothing.

Kirk took down the pail and the stool, and Betty came slowly over. This time Kirk was not afraid. He carefully followed Hernan's instructions and milked her before moving on to feed them, as well as the horses, the chickens, and the wild barn cats that lingered around the property.

As promised, when he was all done, the woman was sitting on the swinging bench on the back porch with two glasses of iced tea.

Kirk thanked her when she held one out for him to take. He did so, and sat down beside her.

"I've known Hernan for about a year," the woman spoke up. "It was around the time my husband died. Jonathan was a good fellow, my best friend, but his time came like it does for all of us."

"I'm sorry about your husband."

"Oh, don't be, dear. He had a good life." a wistful smile crossed her features. "I wasn't always blind. I just grew old, and my retinas gave in. It was alright. My husband was there to help me. He always was there to pull me from the dark."

Kirk nodded silently, but then remembered she was blind and couldn't see it. "I'm sorry about your eyes. I'm glad your husband was there to help you."

The woman hummed in agreement before her hand blindly reached out for his. He met her half way, and her thing fingers wrapped around his. They were warm.

"I tell you this because the first time I met you, I felt sadness in your face. I won't ask you why, or be that nagging old woman, but being old, I have come to learn over the years that when we are sad we tend to isolate ourselves. Don't," she said simply. "Don't hide in your darkness, but let the light in.

"Hernan is a kind man. I hope he can do for you what my husband did for me, whether as a friend or something more. After all, friends love us too, and we all need love in our lives."

Kirk nodded as her hand squeezed his comfortingly. Kirk knew her words were true. He knew he shouldn't be so guarded or try to face his demons alone, but he just… he really couldn't let Hernan see that side of him. He couldn't let him see the monster he tried so hard to keep caged.

"I might be spewing this from my romance novels way back when, but what I hope you take away from this is that no matter what demons you're fighting, you can do it, but do it with a supportive hand. They don't have to fight it for you, only you can do that, but they should be there for you. And I believe Hernan would be as steady as a rock for you. So far, after my husband died, Hernan has kept me afloat with a steady hand. I thought I was going to have to sell the farm and all the animals, but Hernan saved them and this place. I don't know what would have happened to those poor cows if I had to sell them."

The woman sighed. "But enough of my wisdom, what about you? How long have you known Hernan?"

Kirk blinked. He had not heard her, but instead felt like she had lifted a weight off his shoulders, a veil covering his head. He knew what she said was true. He had always known that, but he needed someone to tell him. He needed someone to tell him that he didn't have to fight alone.

A drop fell upon their intertwined hands, and she immediately understood. "It's okay, dear. I'll talk then."

She talked as Kirk tried to regain his bearings. She told him about the history of the farm and stories about her and her husband. She joked with Kirk about her book club and the infamous books she had gotten her hands on over the years. Blindness didn't seem to stop her from one of the things she loved most, reading.

Before he passed, her husband got her the soundtrack for the books she wanted to read. When he couldn't find the audiobook of it, he would record himself reading it. She laughed.

"Sometimes I still play some of the recordings. I really love hearing his reactions to some of the things. Despite us having had rolled around the hay over the years, he never got over his bashfulness about the whole matter. But he read through it, as uncomfortable as he was, and I love him even more with every passing word he reads for me."

Kirk smiled at the story, his tears long gone by then.

"Hernan has only read to me twice. He wasn't too impressed by my collection."

Kirk laughed. "He read to me a few nights ago. I was stuck in bed so he kept me company."

"Hm, he is a gentle man." the woman hummed. "He will take care of you, and I hope you in turn will take good care of him too."

Kirk shook his head. "I don't think there is a way I could ever repay him for what he's done for me so far."

"There is." Kirk looked up at her. "Just being there for him as he is there for you should be payment enough. Hernan may be kind, but he most likely has his demons too."

Kirk nodded. He didn't think Hernan had any, or if he did it was most likely the man's loneliness. He didn't admit it, but Kirk could feel it for his own loneness fed off it. Perhaps they both started as two lonely souls who could comfort each other. But that wasn't right, was it? They might have been drawn to each other at first by a sense of loneliness, but it didn't keep them together. It was something more than that, or at least, Kirk hoped it was something more.

He thanked the woman for her kind words, and for the tea but he wouldn't keep her up longer than he should. It was getting late, and he should head back. She nodded in understanding, and thanked him for coming. One last time, she leaned up to hug him.

"Be happy, Kirk," she told him, "Life's too short not to be."

"Thank you, Abuela."

"I could only hope to have a grandson as gentle as you." she smiled, and Kirk thanked her once more before heading back. He hoped Hernan would be back soon. If he kept his word, it was only one more day before he would return, and something inside Kirk thrummed in excitement.

The day passed. Night turned into morning and morning into night. Kirk had not slept since the day before. He was anxious, worried that he might miss Hernan when he returned. In his wait, Kirk had tidied up the best he could. He found where Hernan had a washer and dryer, and so he cleaned the sheets. He cringed at the tiny spots of blood, most likely his, and tried to get rid of them with a little bleach. Luckily the sheets were white.

He hung them up to dry hoping the morning sun would work its magic. It did by nightfall, and he made the bed once more as if no one had slept in it.

Still, Hernan had yet to return. Kirk tried not to be restless. Instead he went back to the older woman's place to take care of her farm animals, and talk and sit with her again on the back porch.

"Do you know when Hernan is coming back?" she asked him.

"He should be back soon." Kirk promised her, although his confidence waned with every passing day Hernan didn't return. It had been a week, and Kirk was going mad.

Where was he? Had something gone wrong? Did something happen to him? Kirk wore down the red carpet in the sitting room with worry as he paced back and forth. A few more days passed, and Kirk had been reduced to curling himself up in the corner. There was no source of getting news in Hernan's place, and the days of neglect had awakened the demon inside him.

It demanded blood. It demanded to feed. He no longer would be satisfied by something cold. It needed something fresh, something warm. It needed a living, breathing body.

 _'No… that's not me.'_ Kirk's nails dug further into his sides. _'That's not me. I'm not—'_

 _'A monster?'_ The demon laughed. 'You are what you are. It's about time you accepted it.'

Kirk's mind conjured up an image of the old woman as she moved around the house. She was listening to her old tapes, her late husband's voice filling the room as she knitted.

"Tell me, Kirk, is this a nice color?" she held up the yarn for Kirk to see.

"Yes, it's very lovely," Kirk had told her. She smiled.

"Hernan told me it was the color of roses."

"Yes, it's red like roses."

Kirk bit the side of his arm at the memory. No, he wouldn't do it. He couldn't attack her. Even if she was the closest living thing from here, he wouldn't dare. Swiftly, Kirk moved from his corner to lock the front door. He knew he could just unlock it later, but hearing the solid click of the lock made him feel a little better. Perhaps when he lost it, when his demon took over, the lock would at least slow him down.

One could only hope. Kirk sank down to the ground with his back against the locked door.

One could only hope.

* * *

He had been gone for too long. Hernan knew that. His legs nearly gave in when he landed before the front of his home. He hoped Kirk was okay. He had only left him food for three days.

Then Abuela… Was she okay? Was Kirk able to take care of her while he was gone? Hernan moved to open the door, but the door was locked. Kirk must have locked it.

He moved to grab the spare key from under the flowerpot on the side of the door, and unlocked it. As soon as the door swung open, something solid collided into him.

He fell backwards. His back slammed against the wooden floorboards of the porch, as a heavy weight above him kept him there.

"Kirk?" Hernan moved to place a hand on the man's shoulder, but then he felt it. A sudden sharp pain pierced through his shoulder. He winced. His instinct told him to push Kirk off, to throttle him in the other direction, but he found himself too weak to move. Instead he remained where he was.

Kirk was hungry, and he was weak. He had left him alone for too long.

After a moment, the pain began to ebb away, and Kirk's weight began to sink down on him. Hernan could feel all the tension in those muscles suddenly let go, as if Kirk had been trying to hold himself together all this time until he couldn't anymore.

Hernan hissed at the sudden extracting of the fangs from his body, and the hand around his throat started to shake.

"H-Hernan…" Kirk choked on a sob. He hid is face in his other shoulder. The one he had not sank his teeth into. The one that was not bleeding.

"Take me back… please, take me back to Gotham." Kirk's voice was raspy, and his hand slid from Hernan's throat to the man's black collar. "Please… I don't belong here."

Hernan took a deep breath before threading a hand through Kirk's dark hair.

"I'm sorry, Kirk." He said softly, "I shouldn't have left you alone for so long."

Hernan moved to sit up, taking Kirk with him until he had the man sitting on his lap, face still hidden in his shoulder in shame. Kirk couldn't face him. Not after what he had done. Hernan could hear the man's heart pounding anxiously against his chest, and he could smell the saline of tears that stained Kirk's pale cheeks.

"I'm home now." Hernan tried to comfort Kirk. "I'm home now."

Kirk's hold seemed to only tighten at this, but still he refused to look at him. Hernan sighed, but he took his time with Kirk. He continued to run his fingers through the dark hair, and just hold him until his shaking stopped.

When it did, he wrapped a firm arm around the man's waist, and began to stand. Kirk's legs remained around him and his fingers bunched in his collar still.

"I'm here now, Kirk." Hernan continued to say to him like a mantra, "You're not alone."

Slowly, Hernan made his way inside again. He braced the wall for support, and luckily Kirk wasn't very heavy. For the first time, Hernan was thankful for that fact as he made it to the bedroom, and braced his knee on the mattress before leaning over to set Kirk down.

When Kirk felt the sheets against his back, his arms slowly unfurled from around Hernan's neck, and he set his bare feet against the bed. Hernan was free, but he didn't move away. Instead he remained hovering over Kirk.

Blue eyes lingered over the blood-stained lips, and the trail of blood that dribbled down his pale chin and speckled his throat. His cheeks were flushed, and his lips parted as he breathed deeply, wholly as to ease his rapid heart.

Kirk's face was a bloody mess, but Hernan couldn't help but reach his hand out and gently wipe at the blood-stained lips.

Kirk inhaled sharply at the touch. Like a wild animal, he snapped, his teeth catching Hernan's thumb, but a part of him fought not to bite down. Instead he only held the appendage between his clenched teeth, and Hernan didn't make a move to remove it nor did he flinch from Kirk's sudden movement.

Instead blue eyes held Kirk's. Those crimson eyes were feral, a wild cross between blood-lust, confusion, but most of all hurt.

"Kirk." Hernan called out to him, and Kirk's teeth released his finger.

"Kirk." Hernan called out again. "Kirk."

Crimson eyes closed, and Kirk bit back a sob. He turned his bloodied face away from Hernan and into the man's warm palm. Hernan said no more. Instead he wrapped his arms around the man and let him cry softly. He held him without a word. He held him through his tears and even still when they stopped, and the body relaxed in his hold too tired to fight back.

"Hernan." Kirk's voice was steady. It was him. It was fully and completely Kirk with no monster clawing inside his head.

Hernan took a deep breath. "Yes, Kirk, I'm home."

Kirk nodded at this, seemingly relieved by this fact, before burying his face further into Hernan's now healed shoulder.

"Welcome home."

* * *

A/N: Yes, so if you caught the name of her husband, Abuela is Martha Kent. I feel like Martha was always meant to have Superman in her life in some form or another. I tried to make her more of a grandmother figure than a mother figure because Hernan already has a mother and he loved her. I didn't want to get rid of that or make light of that.

However, making Abuela Martha also lets you know that they are in Smallville, Kansas, and kind of gives you an idea of how the setting around these farm parts look like.

Thanks for reading if you've gotten this far, and take care!


	9. Chapter 9

He remembered the squeaking of the wooden floorboards of the porch and then the sudden click of the lock.

He was free.

As soon as the door opened, he had lunged for freedom. Freedom he had clawed to get to. Freedom to finally go and hunt, to quench the thirst that tore at his throat. But then his body collided with something living, breathing, with blood coursing through their veins and instinct took over.

He did not register who was beneath him but only the feeling of warmth flooding his mouth. He savored the tanginess of the copper-iron, and the burning feeling it left against his tongue like that of spice. It was new, an acquired kind of taste that Kirk's hungry demon did not mind.

He drank his full, all the while sinking into the embrace that had enveloped him. He leaned into those gentle fingers running through his hair, and pressed against the warm body that made his pale skin flush and his heart thrum high off adrenaline.

But then those fingers trailed over the back of his neck, human in a way it caressed the soft skin before moving back up in the dark strands of his hair.

 _'Hernan?'_ He had returned? After all this time, he finally came back, and Kirk was…

His pale fingers wrapped around the tanned throat. They shook as he carefully extracted his fangs, and like a child begging for forgiveness, he buried his face in the man's clean shoulder.

 _'Oh God… Hernan…'_ Kirk wanted to scream, but the sound seemed to be drowned out by the fresh blood that now slicked his throat. What had he done? This couldn't be true. He had to be dreaming.

Softly, Hernan spoke to him. He heard the man's voice fill his ears, but never the words. He couldn't distinguish one word from another, but he heard how slowly that heart beneath his hand beat. It limped from one beat to another, wounded in a way that made his own heart beat stutter.

He had hurt him. He had hurt Hernan. Not the monster inside him, but with his own two hands he had forced Hernan down. He dragged the god to the ground, and yet the god still raised him ever higher. He was being lifted. He was carried inside the house, and his mind was washed blank after that. He didn't remember what happened next, but only that he awoke to the warm press of a hand against his face and an arm wrapped securely around him.

Had he been like that all night?

Kirk carefully shifted in the protective arm around him so he was now looking down at the sleeping features that was Hernan.

The man said he didn't need to sleep, and yet his chest rose and fell with every deep breath he took. Hernan was sound asleep. His features were long, and his eyes shadowed with worry.

A pang of guilt struck Kirk at the sight. Hernan must have rushed back. He must have been worried for being gone so long, just as Kirk had been worried by his absence. Then his red eyes came to fall on the dark shirt ripped by his shoulder. Beneath the fabric, the tanned skin was unblemished, but Kirk knew that's where he sank his teeth in. Dried blood marked the spot, and he could still feel the scratchiness of it on his lips and around his cheek.

His stomach clenched at the feeling of it.

"Buenos dias." Kirk looked down at those now blue eyes looking back at him. His features were serene despite what Kirk had done to him the night before, and a gentle hand that he woke up to against his cheek returned to caress his face once more. Hernan paid no heed to the dried blood. It was as if it was never there, but Kirk still felt it. He knew.

"Let's get you washed up," Hernan said. So he did acknowledge it, Kirk thought, but it was hard to ignore. Nonetheless, Hernan made his way off the bed to wet some toilet paper. Kirk met him by the running sink as he tried not to look in the mirror, but he saw the blood that stained the towel after being used against his face. He felt the blood being washed off by gentle presses, and yet the guilt still lingered.

"I'm sorry, Hernan." Kirk's voice was barely over a whisper.

"You did nothing wrong."

"I attacked you." his voice bolder.

"I left you alone for too long."

"Hernan, I'm not some pet that got upset by its master's absence."

Hernan removed the bloodied towel from Kirk's cheek, and tossed it into the wastebasket.

"I never said you were one," Hernan groused. "And I'm not your master."

"No, you're not, but you continue to ignore the truth of the matter. I'm not something you can tame, nor someone you can save. I am what I am, and nothing, not even you, is ever changing that."

"I'm not trying to."

"Then what are you trying to do?"

"I'm trying to be a friend," Hernan said. "I'm trying to say you're not alone."

Kirk closed his eyes. "But I am… and so are you. Our loneliness can't cancel each other out."

"I'm not lonely."

"Hernan…" Kirk opened his eyes to see Hernan smiling at him. How? How could he smile? It seemed no matter what Kirk threw at him, nothing would ever diminish that infectious smile.

"I'm not lonely," Hernan repeated, "I have you – that is, if you want to be. I won't force you to stay, but I'd like you to."

Kirk sighed. "You are insufferable." There was absolutely no way of arguing with this man. "And crazy."

"And stupid," Hernan added. "You forgot that one."

Kirk laughed, a single incredulous huff of a laugh at the fool that was Superman. Kirk had attacked him, twice. Not to mention the amount of times he had tried to warn him, push him away, but like the ocean tides he always came back to shore.

"Is that a yes?" Hernan prompted, trying to catch Kirk's gaze with a puppy eyed look of his own.

Kirk smiled despite himself. "You're the worst."

Hernan laughed. "That's not a no."

Kirk shook his head lightly. "No, I shouldn't."

"But do you want to?"

Kirk averted his gaze away from Hernan's. He knew he shouldn't. It would only encourage Hernan, or worse, hurt him in the end. Kirk shook his head. It wasn't a matter of want, and even if it were, Kirk wasn't a selfish man. He had tried to be at one point. He had tried to be selfish for wanting to live, but in the end his selfishness led him here. Where would his selfishness lead him this time?

But even as his mind screamed no, his lips upturned with desire to say yes, and before he knew it, he found himself asking. "You want me to?"

Hernan's smile brightened, and his blue eyes warm. "Nothing would make me happier than you staying."

Kirk sighed. "Alright, I need to check on Abuela anyway."

"You're only staying for Abuela? I'm hurt." Hernan's features turned into a mock of hurt, but his smile wasn't gone for long. It reappeared a moment later as bright as before. "Gracias. I'm glad."

Kirk only shook his head, muttering to himself softly about what a mistake this was, but Hernan heard none of it. Instead he went back to wiping away the blood from Kirk's chin and neck as Kirk let him. Even so, with every bit of blood Hernan washed away, Kirk could still feel it. He could still feel the dryness of it sticking to his skin like a permanent mark, a stain that would never come off no matter how tender Hernan was or how much water he used, for little did Hernan know the layers of blood had seeped into Kirk's skin, marking the guilt he had collected over the years.

But Kirk offered a smile to Hernan when he was done. He swallowed down the guilt that threatened to rise, and tried to smile through it. He tried to smile like Hernan did. Perhaps the more he smiled, the less he'd have to force it.

As promised, later that day, Hernan and Kirk went to check on Abuela. She was relieved to see them both. She cupped both their cheeks to solidify their faces in her mind before ushering them inside. There was much work to do after Hernan's long absence, and both men were all too willing to help.

Together, they took care of the animals and the fields, and hung out with Abuela on the back porch. Later in the evenings, Hernan would then read to Kirk with kirk falling asleep to the sound of Hernan's comforting voice. He would then wake up with Hernan's arms around him, and legs tangled together beneath the covers. Surprisingly, Kirk didn't mind. Waking in Hernan's hold felt natural, warming in a way he hadn't felt in a long time. Not since Jeremy at least, and like Jeremy, Kirk forgot his hunger when he was around Hernan. His cravings were far and few in between, and Hernan had made sure he had some blood bags in the fridge should Kirk ever need them. Kirk still didn't know where Hernan was getting the bags, but he didn't ask anymore either.

It had been only a week or perhaps two since Kirk had agreed to stay, and the two of them already fell into a rhythm. During the day, Kirk slept with Hernan by his side. When evening came, the two of them would walk over to Abuela's and help her around the farm, or if she did not need help, they simply talked to her. They listened to all her crazy stories of her youth or her latest adventure to the market. Either way, Kirk was content to listen to her, or laugh at the jabs she and Hernan would share with each other.

"Your cheeks are getting fuller," she told him one evening. "I'm glad."

Kirk smiled with her warm palm against his cheek. "Thank you, Abuela."

"And you sound happy, my child."

Kirk said nothing to that, but his smile didn't falter. He supposed he was or at least he was content. It had been officially a month now and the demon inside him hadn't said a word.

Abuela leaned up to hold Kirk close to her. He could hear the steady beating of her heart, but what he heard most of all were her words.

"I'm happy too.

Kirk had stiffened in the past at her displays of affection, even hesitated to return it. However, at her admission, he didn't hesitate wrapping his arms around her and returning the hug fully.

He was happy. He was so happy to be there that he had forgotten he was trying to smile. He just did. He smiled more. He smiled at the way Hernan cooed at the chickens and stroked the hens that flocked to him like an old friend. He smiled at the way Hernan would sing whenever he cooked. The songs tended to be in Spanish so Kirk didn't really know the words, but the melody was always sweet and the way Hernan's blue eyes gleamed when he sang caused the corners of Kirk's lips to curl upwards.

One night, when it began to rain on their walk home, Hernan stopped Kirk from finding shelter, and instead pulled him close with a hand on his hip and the other holding his.

"Hernan we should—"

"Do you hear that?"

"Thunder? Hernan it's going to pour."

"No," Hernan smiled down at Kirk, "It's music."

Kirk's dark brows furrowed in confusion but then Hernan leaned in and hummed close to his ear, and the hand on his hip glided up to the small of his back causing his back to arch in surprise to the warm press. Then they were moving. Hernan held him tight as drops of rain rolled down to the tip of his nose and clung to the dark strands of his hair. Kirk couldn't help but laugh.

"You're ridiculous."

Hernan only hummed louder as they were soaked to the bone, but somehow Kirk wasn't cold. He wasn't cold with Hernan's arms around him, and the heated air he felt brush against his cheek with every melodious hum.

Instead, he found himself pressing closer until he could rest his head against Hernan's shoulder. Kirk smiled, and by the way the melody paused for a moment before picking up again, Kirk imagined Hernan was smiling too.

When they finally made it home, Kirk shivered dripping wet on the porch. He didn't want to track water inside. Instead he waited for Hernan who handed him a dry towel.

"Lo siento, amigo." Hernan ruffled Kirk's wet hair with a separate towel.

"You're not helping." Kirk's voice was muffled by the towel over him, but Hernan either didn't hear, or didn't listen. Most likely the latter as he continued to dry his hair.

"Okay?" Hernan smiled at a still soaked Kirk. When Hernan was only met with a thinned line of Kirk's lips, Hernan nodded. "Sí, let's get you into dry clothes."

Hernan's warm hand slipped into his before guiding Kirk inside to the bedroom. There he retrieved a big dry T-shirt for Kirk to wear that had 'Def Leppard' written in big letters across it.

"One of your yard sale treasures?" Kirk rose a skeptical brow, but he couldn't help but smile at the faded faces on the shirt of an old band he had never listened to before.

"Sí, do you like it?"

"It's dry, so yes," Kirk answered simply before taking a pair of light, long sweat pants from Hernan too. He thanked him and excused himself to the bathroom to change.

The shirt was soft despite its years, but of course was too big for him, as was all of Hernan's clothes. Although it was short-sleeved, the sleeve came to cut at the crook of Kirk's arm, and threatened to hang off one of his pale shoulders. The pants Kirk had rolled up at the waist, and folded the bottom cuffs too so that he didn't trip over them. Finally, the pants stayed up, but seeing how much extra material he had to roll up made Kirk feel small despite being a fully-grown man. Plus, they still hung low around his narrow hips, but the shirt covered up most of Kirk's embarrassment.

He shook his head lightly, but made to leave the bathroom when he noticed Hernan was still in the bedroom. The man had removed his soaked shirt, and had yet to replace it with something else, let alone dry himself as Kirk could see small droplets crossing the man's back. He flushed with embarrassed as his red eyes followed one running down Hernan's tanned spine.

He looked away. "Sorry… I should have knocked."

Although he couldn't see Hernan smile, he could feel it. He could feel those blue eyes filled with mirth as they looked at Kirk standing by the bathroom door.

"It's fine, Kirk. I don't mind you looking."

Kirk couldn't help but scoff at the way Hernan had said that. "I'll just wait for you outside." Kirk insisted, and Hernan thankfully didn't stop him.

Instead Hernan found Kirk down where the dryer was as Kirk moved to place the wet clothes inside. Hernan did the same, though his chin rested on Kirk's exposed shoulder as he did so.

"Would it make you feel better if I wore a shirt?" Hernan asked him. Kirk couldn't help but feel his stomach tie in knots at the heated breath he felt brush against his cool skin with every word Hernan said.

He shook his head lightly.

"Are you sure?" Hernan asked for good measure, but then his chest seemed to meld into Kirk's back, impossibly hot.

Kirk leaned back. It was an involuntary move, a moment of weakness, but then warm hands were there to catch him. They rested on his hips, holding him in place as a heated breath ghosted over the back of ear. A shiver ran up Kirk's spine.

Then those hands on his hips turned him so he was facing Hernan. He only caught a glimpse of those blue eyes before he was being lifted up and onto the dryer with Hernan between his legs.

His hands instinctively braced themselves on Hernan's bare arms. He looked at them. Not a blemish in sight and yet he could feel the strong muscle beneath his fingers, and the heat that radiated off every inch of Hernan's skin.

He was hot; he was warm like sunlight, a feeling Kirk had been craving to feel against his cold skin for so long it made his heart race.

Kirk inhaled sharply in surprise at the sudden feeling of those heated hands against his sides, for when he had been distracted by the warmth of Hernan's arms, those hands had sneaked their way underneath the dark shirt to touch cool skin. Kirk felt himself melting at the touch. He felt himself capitulating to those hands that could lift up the world and yet they outlined his ribs carefully – gently as if resting there simply to feel the thrumming of his wild heart.

"Hernan…" Kirk felt his breath leave him as he could feel Hernan's lips ghost over the hollow of his neck, but never touch. His heated breath made Kirk's toes curl, and wanting more of what he shouldn't have.

"Hernan," Kirk said again although his voice was just above a whisper.

"Kirk," Hernan answered. He raised his lips from Kirk's neck to look at him. Blue eyes lingered over flushed skin and those sweetly parted lips. He wanted them. He wanted them so, but he held himself back, and Kirk could tell. He could see the hunger that flared in those blue eyes, and feel it in the way Hernan squeezed his sides. Kirk arched into the touch. Every part of his cool skin wanted to feel Hernan so much his body nearly quaked with restrained desire.

"Hernan." He struggled to keep his voice even.

"Kirk." Hernan's voice did waver, fumbling at the 'r'.

Before Kirk was the strongest man in the world, and yet he was breaking apart with want for him. Kirk's hand came up to frame the god's face who happened to be more than a god, more than a hero – he was Hernan. This was Hernan. This wasn't Jeremy, or someone who wanted to use him, and Kirk felt his once hollow chest well up with something he couldn't describe, but he was warm. He was incredibly warm.

Hernan leaned into Kirk's touch for a moment before he turned his head to the side to kiss Kirk's wrist. One hand extracted itself from underneath Kirk's shirt in favor of holding Kirk's hand in place as Hernan pressed a ring of soft kisses around Kirk's wrist, lingering on the pulse that raced beneath the skin. He then moved to kiss the inside of Kirk's palm, his fingertips as they curled at the attention.

Kirk watched him all the while. His red eyes widened in surprise, but then those blue eyes turned on him again. Their dark pupils were blown wide leaving only a thin ring of blue.

Kirk swallowed, and Hernan leaned in. They were inches apart from their noses brushing against each other as his fingers tightened around Hernan's arms in anticipation. He didn't move. He didn't lean in nor pull back. He felt frozen, although his heart raced faster than he could ever remember it doing so.

Then Hernan leaned in. He closed the distance between them, but struck a wall.

No, not a wall, but a cheek. Kirk had turned away at the last minute for Hernan to kiss his cheek instead. As soon as Hernan realized this, he pulled away. His breath lingered over the just-kissed spot as if coming to grasp of what this meant. Then slowly, altogether, Hernan moved away.

Kirk instantly mourned his touch, but he couldn't. He couldn't bring himself to do it. As much as his mind and body had screamed for it, he didn't have the heart.

"I'm sorry… Hernan, I'm sorry." Kirk kept his gaze averted from the man before bringing a hand up to cover the crookedness of his lips. He hid the way they pressed together to hold back the unfair words he wanted to say but couldn't find himself saying. All the while, Hernan remained silent. He was too shocked to say anything nonetheless move.

Kirk half expected Hernan to storm out, but he didn't. He remained their motionless as silence strained between them. Even so, Kirk could hear the unvoiced "why" Hernan wanted to ask, but never did.

The answer was simple. Hernan deserved much more than Kirk. He deserved much more than Kirk could ever hope to give him. He deserved happiness, and Kirk couldn't give him that. Even if Hernan could make Kirk happy, it would be selfish of him. It would be selfish of Kirk to take from Hernan what he could never give in return, and so he pulled back before he would do the inevitable: hurt him.

"I'm sorry, Hernan." Kirk spoke up after what seemed forever. His voice was eerily calm even though inside him was a mess. It was a mess Hernan couldn't just love away, and therefore Hernan couldn't love him. No one could.

"I'm sorry Hernan, but I will always be a monster."

Kirk slowly moved to slip off the dryer and quickly moved past Hernan. Hernan did not stop him.

Hernan did not hold him that night either. He read to Kirk like always but his voice was solemn. Each word was heavy, weighing down on Kirk's chest to the point Kirk wondered how he breathed. But even as his lungs felt deprived, Hernan's voice remained steady as he read with little indication that he noticed how stiff Kirk's body was beside his.

To anyone who saw them, they would think nothing had changed, but Kirk knew everything had.

He wasn't sure when he had closed his eyes, but when he opened them Hernan wasn't there like usual. His arms weren't around him keeping him warm, and Kirk woke up to resounding silence when he had become so used to hearing the steady beating of a heart.

It was for the best, but the more he told himself that, the more bitter the words sounded to him. Although Kirk was no stranger when it came to bitterness. He swallowed it down like the bitterness of copper and iron that saturated blood.

He would eventually get used to the bitterness of it all again. He would have to.

Slowly he rose from the bed. He noted how cold and neat the sheets were on the other side as if Hernan was never there. He must have left Kirk as soon as Kirk fell asleep. Kirk couldn't blame him.

He slipped Hernan's large black shirt off in favor of trading it in for long sleeves. He could see from the small crack between the curtains that the sun was still out, and thus he would need to be covered. However, as he slipped his arms through the sleeves, Kirk began to wonder if he was allowed to. He had been wearing Hernan's clothes all this time. Even if they were too big for him, they were something, and Hernan never said anything. Hernan even made a big pile of long sleeved shirts, and pants for Kirk to switch into when needed.

Kirk shook his head. Hernan wouldn't yell at him for borrowing clothes, but even so, Kirk couldn't help but feel the weight of the soft fabric against his skin as the shirt sagged around his shoulders, threatening to hang off, and the belt having to be notched at the very last hole.

Kirk swallowed down the bitterness again that threatened to rise. It was for the best.

Kirk eventually left the bedroom to find Hernan. He luckily didn't have to go far as the sound of the front door opened, and in walked Hernan. Judging by the dark coat Hernan wore, he must have been out for an errand. Maybe that's why he wasn't there to greet Kirk when he woke up.

"Morning," Kirk said nonetheless.

"Buenos días, amigo. Come, sit down for a moment." Hernan gestured to the old, worn out leather couch that he undoubtedly flew over a couple of fields to get here. Kirk tried not to smile at the thought, but gingerly sat down as instructed waiting for Hernan to sit beside him. He did not.

Instead he reached into the confines of his inner jacket pocket, and pulled out a clear glass vial to set on the coffee table before Kirk. Kirk stared at it.

"Hernan…?"

"Those days I left you alone was so my friend could extract my blood. They used it to synthesize a possible cure for you."

"A cure?" Kirk felt his throat seize up as he looked at the vial and then back up at Hernan. "How?"

"I have some genes in my DNA that make me invulnerable when exposed to the sun. My friend was able to isolate that gene, and develop this for you. It should cure you of the serum you used all those years ago."

Kirk couldn't believe what he was hearing. All those years he spent searching for a cure for first his lymphoma and then for his vampirism only for Hernan to offer him a cure to everything in just a few months…

His throat seized up once more, and his chest tightened. How? Why? His mind reeled yet the world around him seemed to stand still, seemed to freeze in utter awe of what he thought was impossible.

"Kirk." a gentle hand rested on his shoulder, and without thinking, Kirk leaned into the touch. His cheek rested on the warm fingers that curled around his shoulder, and then there was Hernan. Hernan finally moved to sit close to him. It was as if whatever wall Kirk had placed between them the other day, Hernan had knocked down.

Only when a warm hand came to cup his cheek did Kirk realize how damp they were. He shouldn't cry in front of Hernan, but they rolled freely, and Hernan caught them all. The hand on his cheek guided his face up so his eyes could meet steady blue ones looking back at him.

 _'Why?'_ He wanted to ask, but all that came out was a choked sob, but Hernan was patient. Hernan allowed Kirk to let go of all the things Kirk had been carrying around for years by himself. He let him cry. He let him lean against him for support while offering his own comfort.

Finally, at last, Kirk breathed deeply. His hand covered Hernan's that rested over his cheek as he looked over at those blue eyes.

Instead of asking why, he said. "Thank you."

There was nothing else to say. No words could describe how thankful Kirk was, for not only a possible cure, but for everything Hernan had done for him. How could he ever thank him for doing what Kirk thought was impossible – for doing something Kirk could only dream of? Hernan had also used his own blood to make it, and knowing how invulnerable Hernan's skin was, Kirk couldn't imagine what Hernan had to do in order to get it.

There really were no words Kirk could say that would convey what he felt at that moment.

"De nada," Hernan replied with a soft smile gracing his features. "It's a small price to pay if it grants you happiness."

Kirk found himself breaking into a smile that was half incredulous and half joy. Hernan was truly ridiculous. Who would go to such great lengths for someone who was so undeserving? Kirk couldn't think of anyone, but now he would always think of Hernan.

"So, mi amigo." Hernan took in a deep breath before his smile widened, but the smile was a little off. It didn't make the corners of Hernan's blue eyes upturn with the motion of his lips.

"With this you can return back to your old life, and continue it the way it should have been."

Kirk nodded wordlessly as he watched those lips move but those blue eyes were vapid.

"I will drop you off in Gotham as promised."

Kirk nodded once more.

"Does that sound good?" Hernan asked. Kirk swallowed. The bitterness turned bittersweet. He was ready to get rid of this demon he harbored. He was ready to be human again, but was he ready to go back to his old life? Would his old life accept him back?

What happened to Tina? To Will? How were they? Would they be happy to see him? Would they welcome him back? Welcome him home?

Kirk believed they would. He hoped they would. The thought of seeing them again was what kept him going all these years.

With that in mind, he said. "Yes… thank you."

Hernan nodded and released his hold on Kirk in favor of reaching into his inside pocket again. This time he had an air-sealed packet which he opened, and took out a syringe.

"Are you ready, mi amigo?" he asked Kirk tentatively, although his expression was unreadable. His blue eyes had hardened, focused on the task at hand as Kirk took a deep breath and rolled up the long sleeve to offer his arm to Hernan.

Hernan prepared the syringe. He looked at Kirk once more, looking for another sign of approval, that Kirk really wanted this, for once he did it, there was no going back.

"Yes," Kirk said, voice steady. "Please. I'm ready."

Hernan's hands were warm as they caressed his cold skin for the last time. He aligned the needle in position before steadily administering it.

The serum was injected into Kirk's blood stream. It was done. What had begun as a nightmare ended as a dream come true. It was time to wake up.

* * *

A/N: So... I'm sorry? But not entirely. I think the UST (unresolved sexual tension) was what I got hit the most, even if jokingly, about having. My reasons for this was because the scene I had here in the many original drafts, was very heavy, and this story already felt heavy so I wanted to lighten it a little by the UST instead. I know that sounds weird since the UST was, as other's have said, "hurtful", but I think better than the even more hurtful piece that was there originally.

Also, I made this fic UST, because I felt that Kirk has a lot of emotional problems he needs to overcome first before sex is thrown in there. Sex complicates things, and I didn't want it to cloud feelings Kirk might have been having or struggling with. However, I did promise my friend to make a resolved sexual tension one-shot for this, so we'll see if I can do that.

Nonetheless, I hope you enjoyed the chapter and the ending of part 2. Now onto part 3!


	10. Chapter 10

-Part 3-

The Spring air was cool against his warm skin as he looked up at the night sky. He watched as the flying figure retreated until he could no longer see him. He could feel the strings of his heart tug the farther Hernan flew away, but at the same time there was no going back.

Although there was no way Kirk could make it up to Hernan for what he did for him, his time with Hernan was a dream that had ended. He was no longer a monster. He was no longer a vigilante or a hero, or whatever Hernan might have thought connected Kirk to him. They were nothing alike anymore. Kirk was now just Kirk, another human Hernan spent his days protecting as Superman, nothing more.

Although Hernan had offered Kirk a place to rest while he recovered from the injection, Kirk wanted to get back to Gotham. Hernan obliged. Kirk needed not only to return to humanity, but he needed to find himself again. He needed to find himself as a person and no longer the monster he used to be. He needed to find Kirk, and as his professors in the past had always advised him, when searching for something lost, start from the last place you remember. That place was with Will and Tina.

He hoped after all these years apart they hadn't moved as he stood upon the stoop, finger lingering on the call button. What if someone else answered? Then what would Kirk do? He couldn't go back to his old place. He imagined it would have been sold by now, and there had to be several Magnus's listed in the Gotham phonebook if Kirk tried to call them.

 _'Enough.'_ Kirk told himself. He had made it this far, he couldn't back down now. He went to push the call button, and the familiar buzz he used to find jarring was a welcomed sound.

"Mr. Langstrom."

Kirk turned at the sudden sound of his name being called. At the bottom of the stairs was a man dressed in black. His suit was well pressed, as he wore dark shades to cover his eyes. Even so, Kirk was sure he didn't know him as the sight of him made the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

"H-hello?" a wary voice spoke over the speaker, crackling a bit as it always did, but Kirk didn't move to answer her. His heart pounded at the sound of Tina's voice as he ached to call out to her, but both hands remained frozen at his sides. The man dressed in black had flashed the inside of his jacket where the outline of a hand gun could clearly be seen.

"Come with me, and no one has to get hurt." his tone was insipid, but the words themselves were threatening enough. Kirk nodded silently, capitulating at once even though Tina's voice rang from the other side of the box once more.

"Hello? Is anyone there?"

 _'I'm sorry, Tina.'_

"Kirk…?"

Kirk stilled. Her voice cracked, but this time it was not the machine's fault. Kirk knew it was her as part of him broke inside too.

The man moved his hands to his waist, a flash of gold on his hip caught Kirk's eyes. Was this man FBI? Kirk swallowed, but willed himself to take a step, and then another. Slowly he made his way down the stairs, farther and farther away from Tina.

 _'I'm sorry, Tina. I'm so sorry.'_ Kirk heard the static of the box, but he couldn't reach it. He couldn't risk Tina's life even as she called out to him. He had protected her this far, and he wouldn't stop now.

When he reached the bottom of the steps he found hands reaching to grasp him, pulling him back as the man before him lunged and covered his face with a cloth.

The smell was sickeningly sweet.

 _'Chloroform!'_ Kirk struggled, but it was futile. He wasn't as strong as he used to be as the drug began to take effect. His vision blurred and his limbs felt like lead. He was gone, with only the crackling sound of the speaker being the last thing he heard.

* * *

"Langstrom." there was a snapping sound in his ear. "Langstrom."

 _'Snap!'_

Kirk's eyes shot open. Where was he? He blinked to clear his eyes, but his vision was still a bit blurry, and he could hardly move. At least not his wrists. He couldn't move his wrists very far as they were stopped by the clinking sound of metal. Was he handcuffed?

"Langstrom."

Kirk looked up towards the voice that spoke to him, but he could barely see who they were due to the darkness of the room and his compromised sight.

His lips moved to say something, but so many questions flooded him at once. Where was he? Why was he here? Why did they want from him, and what were they doing at Tina's apartment earlier?

However, the voice interrupted him. "Since you will most likely be useless if I don't answer the basic questions, I'll get them out of the way. You're at a confidential government facility you used to work at a few years ago."

Kirk froze, his blood running cold.

"And here, we like to keep a close eye on our employees. We wouldn't want any leaks in the system so to speak. As to why you're here, not long after you disappeared, we had one of our test subjects escape. You were in contact with this subject prior to his escape."

Was he? Kirk felt his eyes widening with every accusation thrown at him. He couldn't recall talking to anyone he wasn't supposed to. Hell, he barely spoke to anyone when he worked for Waller. Unless he meant…

"After you disappeared, we found you. We know you were who Gotham called Batman, and we also know you've been in contact with the man the world knows as Superman."

Kirk's fingers tightened around the handles of the chair he was cuffed to, his knuckle turning white.

"What we want to know is what you were doing with him."

The tone although monotone was threatening, but this time Kirk wasn't scared. They could do what they wanted with him, but he wouldn't put Hernan's life in danger. Not after what he had done for him. So, Kirk steeled himself for any kind of torture they might have thrown his way, but he wasn't going to talk.

He remained silent. The interrogator sighed, sounding annoyed.

"We can do this the hard way, Langstrom, or you can give yourself a break."

"What do you want with him?" Kirk asked.

"We want to protect the lives of the people. Ordinary people such as your good friend, Magnus."

Kirk froze. Did they have Will? He had only heard Tina over the com, he didn't hear Will. He didn't know if Will was home. The thought made Kirk's heart race. They couldn't make him choose between his best friend, and the man who had saved him. They couldn't.

"What have you done to Will?"

"Nothing," the interrogator said almost good naturedly. "And it will stay that way if you tell us what we want to know."

"And what is it that you want to know exactly?"

"We want to know what you know about Superman, so start talking."

Kirk clenched his jaw. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He couldn't let them hurt Will, but Hernan…

Kirk swallowed before looking away from the stranger not that he could even see them in the first place. Then finally, after a few moments, Kirk decided he had to say something.

"He helped me."

"With what?"

"With finding a cure for my vampirism, that's all."

There was a slight pause before the interrogator laughed. They pretentiously huffed at Kirk's words. "We know that can't be all, Langstrom. You worked for us. You know we're not easily fooled."

"Do I?"

A hand slammed the metal table, causing Kirk to involuntarily flinch for he could barely see the movement, but he heard it echo around the room.

"Enough!" the interrogator yelled. "What happened those few months you were out of Gotham?"

Kirk pressed his lips thin. "I told you. Superman was helping me find a cure. I've been searching for one for three years."

"Fine, if that's the story you're sticking with today. Perhaps you'll change your mind by tomorrow."

Kirk felt his stomach clench. What were they going to do tomorrow that would persuade him to talk? Were they going to bring Will in? Were they going to torture him before his eyes? Kirk felt nauseous at the thought as he regretted ever having met Waller. He regretted not listening to Will and taking her up on her offer. Now he was here, human, and feeling more helpless than he ever had before.

He thought he was waking up from a dream, but Kirk realized he had stumbled into a nightmare, and this time he feared there was no waking up.

Kirk heard doors opening and slamming shut and then opening again. He heard the familiar shuffling of boots he hadn't heard in a very long time before one wrist was released to be handcuffed to the other behind his back.

Roughly they brought him to his feet, and still Kirk's vision was blurry. He couldn't see their faces or where they were going but the florescent lights above him in the hallway was familiar including the sterile whiteness of the walls and the mysterious doors that lined them.

They came finally to the section where the floors were concrete and the doors metal. Kirk had a feeling he was about to finally find out what this section was for as he heard the sound of a door being opened before he was pushed inside.

"Hands." Someone barked at him from a metal slot of the door. Kirk backed up into it and his hands were finally released. As soon as he moved his hands away, the slot was locked shut, leaving him alone in the dark.

Where was he now? How did he get here? Kirk knew, but he couldn't fathom after everything he had done, after everything he'd been through, how it all led him to these small four cell walls with no windows to tell the time of day. How did his life come to this?

Just when Kirk thought his problems were finally a thing of the past, his past had come back to get him. What was the expression? Out of the frying pan and into the fire? Kirk wanted to laugh, pitifully so, but his vision seemed to begin clearing up at last when he was just beginning to think his sight was permanently impaired. At last he could see clearly the room he was locked in.

It wasn't completely dark, but it was dim. The walls were made of iron and bare save for the jagged etchings on the wall that made Kirk's skin crawl. They were tally-marks, many of them. They lined the wall that a spring metal cot was pushed against. They were high up and came down before abruptly stopping at near the head of the cot. Kirk swallowed. He didn't count them all, but of those he counted, it was already well past a year. Whomever was held here before him was there for quite some time. Kirk wondered how long they would keep him there.

After all, no one would be looking for him. He was dead for all they knew, missing for three to four years. Who still believed he was alive? But then Kirk remembered Tina. He remembered the way she had called out to him, desperate yet wary as if she had called out to him before over the intercom, waiting for him to answer her back.

Tina… they knew where she lived. They knew where Will was, and the thought of what they could do to them… Kirk clenched his fists. He had to get out. He had to find a way out. It was then that he noticed a small vent at the corner of the room, but it was high up, almost touching the ceiling. How could he possibly reach that? There was little in the room save for a cot, a moldy sink, and a toilet.

 _'Come on, Kirk. Think.'_

All he had left was his brain. He wasn't as strong as he used to be nor did he have the agility. Just when he thought he dreaded those things, he never wanted them more than that moment.

Damn him for not taking gym seriously in school.

Kirk spent a few minutes cursing himself, getting it out of his system before he got to work. He paced around the room looking for any clues or ways he could have escaped, but he saw none.

 _'Look harder,'_ he told himself. People depended on him. Tina, Will, and now Hernan were all in danger because of him. He looked around the cot, he looked around the moldy sink, and he even held his nose as he looked at the toilet. Nothing.

Great. Well there had to be something. If someone escaped one of these cells at one point, then escape was possible. He just had to find out how.

"Like your room?"

Kirk jolted at the sudden voice. It was slightly muffled as its echoes traveled down the walls of the vent, but Kirk recognized that voice. He knew who it was as he felt a shiver run up his spine.

 _'Waller.'_

"Nice, isn't it? The ventilation system here?"

Kirk scoffed. "Really? I don't recall any air coming through since I've been here."

Waller laughed, the laughter sounded more menacing coming through the vents than in person, Kirk was sure.

"Nice to see you well, Langstrom." Kirk could feel her smirking through her amused tone. "Have you figured it all out yet? Why I've brought you here to this very cell?"

"I'm starting to get an inkling," Kirk admitted. It was rather odd how Waller had hired him in the first place. He had not earned his Ph.D. but had merely just graduated from college, albeit with a bright future ahead of him, being one of Luthor's boys. Still, to be hired to work at a highly-classified government facility, it was suspicious. Then there was the question of the DNA sequencer. The machines weren't rare, and would have been big enough to fit in the lab he was assigned to, yet they had him go down several flights to a small room where all he had was a sequencer and a vent. A vent that he guessed was connected to this room which meant Waller had…

"I hope you enjoyed your little conversations with one of our test subjects. He has never responded quite so well to others before you. I guess he took pity on you. He could hear your illness."

"You hired me because I was dying of lymphoma?" Kirk more so stated than questioned.

"And for other reasons, but you appealed to subject036 as planned, and even gave him the idea to escape."

Kirk remembered the last time he had spoken to apparently subject036. He had said he had been working on a project, and Kirk had helped him. He helped him by mentioning sunlight. It seemed so innocuous of a thing it was bizarre, but it was important to Waller. Important enough for Waller to hold him here in the very same cell of the escaped subject, his friend.

"I'm glad he did."

"I wouldn't be so quick to celebrate, Langstrom. Neither I nor you know the full extent of subject036's power, or otherwise known as Superman."

Kirk stilled. Superman? Hernan? Hernan was subject036? But he grew up on a farm? Kirk had seen the family picture. He saw his mother, his father, his sister, they were all happy and smiling. What… what happened? And then that voice through the vents… How did Kirk not recognize that voice? Hernan had read to him at night for a while now, sung to him, and even then Kirk didn't notice. Did the vents distort the sound? Did he just not remember the voice as well as he thought he had?

Kirk's hand braced the wall as he leaned against it for support. That couldn't be. After all this time… Did Hernan know? He must have. That must have been the reason why he had taken him in, because they were friends, because Kirk had unknowingly helped him escape.

"I see you've figured it out," Waller spoke up once more. Kirk shook his head. He couldn't wrap his head around the sudden revelation, but then that blood… was it Hernan he had been testing on all this time? Was he helping Waller contain him, to hurt him?

Kirk balled his hands into tight fists, fuming.

"The only thing I have yet to figure out is what you want with Hern – Superman."

"Hernan? It would seem Superman has taken more interest in you than I thought."

Kirk didn't say a word. His jaw was clenched tight with many things he wanted to say, yell at her. He had never been so furious in his life. It almost felt as if the demon inside him was back, or better yet that the demon he believed the cure for his lymphoma injected into him was never actually in the syringe but was always inside him. It had been dormant all this time until the serum brought it out of him, and now it was never going back. It was out, and it was ready to raise hell.

"I was going to use something else to bait Superman, but perhaps I just need you."

Kirk glared up at the vent from which Waller spoke from, his demon cackling madly inside his ribcage. "No one is using me, especially you, and even if you tried, Superman is much too smart to fall for it."

"He'll know it's a trap, Langstrom, but since the day we contained him, we always knew his greatest weakness was his empathy."

Kirk had imagined some stereotypical evil villain cackling from the vents, but they never did. Instead there was silence from the vent. He was only left with his temper simmering in the dark room.

Fuck Waller, he was getting out of this alive. He couldn't let Hernan down. Not now. Not ever. He renewed his search around the room, feeling the walls for anything that Hernan might have left behind.

When he thought all hope was lost, he felt it. It was a small crack in the wall high above his head and underneath the vent. The crevice was wide enough for him to slip almost three fingers in up to the very first knuckle. It wasn't enough for Kirk to pull himself up, nor was he strong enough to do it but perhaps if he could just find a way to boost himself up he could use it as another support to get him up the rest of the way.

Kirk looked around the room. The small bathroom area was on the far side of the room, and though the cell was small, it would be a far stretch for him to leap from the top of the sink up to the vent.

Then there was the bed that was closer to the vent, but it was bolted down and thus unmovable.

It would have to do.

His first attempt, he wasn't even close. His knee slammed into the metal wall causing him to clamp his teeth down together hard, and keep his jaw clenched least he draw one of the guards' attention.

When no one came, Kirk wasted no time in trying again. And then again, and again, and once more. It was irrational, impractical. His logical mind screamed for him to stop and find a better way, but there wasn't one. He had to keep going although his knees were battered and bruised, and his knuckles bled.

It hurt. He was human now, and he felt his body ache in was he hadn't for a long time, but he swallowed it down. He pushed it aside, and jumped again.

This time he was able to just clip the metal grating of the vent, but he must have hit it with enough force that the screen came down with him. His own back softened the blow of the screen before it hit the ground. He was partially thankful for this even if his back wasn't. It didn't make as much noise as it could have.

However, why had it come off so easily? He never came up with a plan to get the screen off once he got up there, so he was thankful that it came off, but why was it so easy? He wondered if this was another plan of Waller's. He wondered if she was just toying with him to watch him squirm like a lab rat through a maze.

Kirk tossed the screen onto the cot, and moved in position to jump from the end of the cot up to the now opened vent. Whether it was a trap or not, Kirk had to take the chance. He didn't have time to sit there and wonder. He had to move.

He sprang up and his hand caught the ledge as the rest of him slammed against the wall.

God, the guards must have heard that, but Kirk didn't want to stay and find out. Instead, his foot found the crack in the wall as he wedged the tip of the sole of his shoe in there before propelling himself up and into the vent.

His face was actually met with a cool breeze, and the sound of a low hum. So the vents did actually work. It wasn't just for show, but Kirk supposed they would have to or else everyone would die of suffocation. Nonetheless, he struggled to pull the rest of himself up.

Jesus, his arms were weak. They shook on either side of him from the great effort it took to pull himself up. After what seemed like forever, he fully slipped inside.

No one came. There were no alarm bells ringing, or anything of the sort. Either Waller was careless and didn't place a security camera in the room, or this was most definitely a trap.

Still, Kirk moved on. He crawled on his stomach through to the other side which he knew was the room with the sequencer. It was the room Kirk had spent hours in talking to whom he now knew was Hernan all along.

He tested the screen to see if it would come loose as easily as the last one, and to his surprise it did. With a couple of shoves, he was able to loosen the screen free.

He carefully hopped out. He winced at the pain that rushed up his legs upon impact, but still, there was no sound from outside the hall. There was no indication that they knew he was no longer in his cell.

He scrambled. If they kept the room as it was the first time he had come, then he knew what was in the drawers. He remembered what they stocked him with as the scientist inside him sparked to life. The cogs in his head turned, as he worked swiftly, efficiently before anyone would start looking for him.

In a just a few moments, he was able to scramble something together before he climbed up on the workbench where the opening of the vent was.

"Let's see how good your ventilation system really is, Waller." Holding his breath, he combined the solutions into one, and covered the vent once more before the reaction could complete itself.

He waited. He hid his nose in the crook of his arm to hide from the toxic fumes that was unknowingly filling up the room, and hopefully the hallway too. His eyes remained trained on the clock hanging on wall as he listened carefully for any sort of movement outside, for any kind of noise.

Five minutes passed and then Kirk heard it. A cough, followed by another, and then another. It started with one person before it spread to the next.

 _'Come on,'_ Kirk thought as the clock ticked away. Six minutes and Kirk nearly jumped at the sound of a hard thump against the wall.

Did it work?

Seven minutes and the coughing had stopped. Eight minutes, and Kirk couldn't wait any longer. He swallowed down his fear, and willed himself to slowly unlock the door and check the hall.

The guards were down, knocked unconscious. The bomb had worked, but now Kirk had to move. With his nose still covered, he snatched one of the guard's cards as he passed before rushing to the elevator. All key cards had clearance to only a certain number of floors. Hopefully this one had access to the garage. He pushed the button for the one he remembered pushing himself to go home, and with a sigh of relief, the button lit up, and the elevator began to move.

He kept his head down. Surely there were cameras in the elevator as Kirk's heart raced in anticipation for alarm bells. They miraculously hadn't gone off yet which had Kirk thinking surely this was all a ploy. It couldn't be that easy, albeit he was all bruised up, to escape. There had to be a catch. There had to be Waller waiting for him when the elevator doors pulled apart.

The elevator slowed to a stop. The garage… it was just behind the metal doors and then… then what? Would he be met with gun in his face? Would he be shot? No, Kirk shook his head. He'd been chased by death for far too long to fear it now.

The doors opened.

No one.

Kirk quickly moved. He did not look for cameras this time, but simply moved past the concrete pillars to the direction he assumed would be the exit. With the opaque windows of the car that always drove him, Kirk was never able to get where they were ever going, or better yet which direction they went, but he would find the exit. He had to.

"Have we located Subject036?" Kirk halted at the sound of Waller's voice. Carefully, he snuck behind a concrete pillar, praying to whatever deity that would listen for mercy that she wouldn't catch him now.

"Not yet, Ma'm, but we have located the sister," said another voice, making Kirk's blood run cold. "She has not moved far from Metropolis."

"I see. Very well then. Call up—" the sound of an alarmed pierced the air causing Kirk to duck low.

"What is it now?" Waller yelled exasperated. "Clarence, take care of it. If it's Langstrom, just place him back in his cell by whatever means necessary. Break his legs if you have to."

Kirk gulped.

"Yes, Ma'm," Clarence replied before the sound of a car door slamming could be heard, followed by it pulling away. Kirk remained where he was. There was nowhere to go where he wouldn't be seen, but luckily the sound of footsteps, multiple pairs, could be heard rushing past him.

As soon as they passed, Kirk snuck past the pillar he was hiding behind, and slipped underneath the mechanical garage door before it closed shut.

He was out. He could breathe air, feel the sun washing over his face. It was morning, and although Kirk had wished to feel the sun on his face for the longest time, he thought little of it at that moment. All that ran through his mind was move. Move now. Escape. Hernan needed him. They were going after his sister, and Waller wasn't dumb. She wouldn't go after someone so important to Hernan unless she had something up her sleeve that could really hurt him.

Kirk got up on his feet, and moved past the cement driveway only to veer off to the side. The driveway most likely led to another checkpoint which Kirk had no chance of passing. Kirk would have to go through the back. He remembered the view from his three windows. He remembered the endless fields of wheat, and the fence that stood in his way of freedom.

Nonetheless, he began to climb. He pulled himself up the wire despite his bruised limbs, and the barbed wire that spiraled across the top of it. He climbed through it, letting it slice into him, ripping Hernan's shirt, ripping through his skin.

 _'I'll live.'_ Kirk pushed past the pain that was considerably numbed by the adrenaline that coursed through him, he was sure.

Once over, he jumped. His legs could not catch the fall as he braced himself with bloodied hands. Even so, he had hit the ground running. As soon as he felt the grass between his fingers, he ran. He ran through the wheat fields and did not stop. Even when the sound of the alarm was long gone, Kirk continued through the endless fields.

 _'I'm coming, Hernan.'_

* * *

A/N: Okay, so... I understand how fans of GnM love Waller and think she's a great female president. I don't mean to bash her in this fic, however, I do love a calculative/manipulative Waller. I don't think Waller is a hero or a villain in the verses she is in, and still hold that to be true in the GnM universe. Although she makes the Justice Tower and forms the Justice League, she also starts Project Fair Play which I kind of allude to in this fic with Dr. Holt.

Fair Play is also alluded in Superman's animated short where he has to take down Brainiac. Brainiac in the scene looks like a child, and his uniform is akin to a prison jumpsuit. He was created in the lab to stop Superman one day, and I believe he was created under the umbrella of Project Fair Play. Although Waller in the scene is made to appear trusting of Superman, and not wanting to destroy a city, I'm not very sympathetic to her (I've learned not to be with the other versus she's in). She appears to be more of a sympathetic character in the animated verse, but in the comics, she appears very much like the Waller I know.

So, I apologize to those Waller fans that liked her being a hero in the GnM, but I like my Waller in the gray space between good and evil.

Also, it was because of the Brianiac short, that I got the idea of Hernan being held in a lab. In one of the original drafts (because wow, there were many), I had a scene of Hernan holding Brianiac's hand. It was a touching scene, and I loved it, but it complicated the story more than I was willing to write the solutions for.

Nonetheless, I hope you don't mind my villainess version of Waller.


	11. Chapter 11

The buzzer went off once, then twice, then did not stop. It was a long incessant buzz that made him want to crack his skull against the wall.

"What?!" he yelled.

"Will!" Will's hand froze on the intercom. "Will? Is that you?"

 _'No… no it can't be.'_

"Will, please. If that's you, let me in."

"K-Kirk?"

There was a laugh, a small huff of a ghost Will had mourned for over the years. It was a laugh Will was so familiar with, so haunted by it ached to imagine the small quirk of those lips Kirk did after such a laugh.

Will buzzed him in. Ghost be damned, Will welcomed it. He welcomed the illusion into the building, and waited for it to open the front door. A knock sounded.

Will froze. He didn't dare move to answer it but simply stood a few feet away from the door.

 _'I dare you to open that door,'_ Will thought. If it opened, it couldn't be a figment of his imagination, right? It couldn't be some twisted dream that he would wake from in a cold sweat.

"I'm coming in, okay?"

Will nodded, and the doorknob slowly turned.

 _'God, if you're listening…'_

"Will?"

Brown eyes widened at the sight of his friend. He was bruised, battered, and bloodied. He was a walking corpse. His skin was deathly pale save for the bruises that bloomed across paper-white skin.

The dark shirt was ripped, seeming to hang on by a thread, or perhaps it stuck to him by the blood that had soaked through the material. And yet, despite all the blood and bruises, those very same lips Will had dreamed about quirked up. They curled into a smile that made his heart stutter to a stop.

Oh god, it was a nightmare.

"W-Will? Will!" hands reached out to him. Warm, solid hands had grasped his arm, his shoulder from falling over.

"Will, listen to me for I don't have much time, but do you have the nanite-bat serum we made all those years ago?" Will saw those lips move but he couldn't make the words out for the life of him for there were hands were touching him. Touching him!

He wanted to pull away. He wanted to throttle the demon for mocking him, but he did none of that. He couldn't do that.

"Will, do you hear me? Will are you—" Kirk's words were abruptly cut off by strong arms that wrapped around him. He winced. The embrace was crushing, causing his bones to feel like they were caving in on him at last.

"Will," Kirk repeated. He repeated the name over and over again, and still Will held on to him. His fingers dug into his shoulders, and his head buried in his neck as if the moment he pulled away, Kirk would be gone again. He'd leave and never return whether it was by death's cold hands or Kirk's own violation.

"Kirk," Will called back at last, his voice soft. It was near inaudible that Kirk wasn't quite sure whether Will had said anything at first. But then Will said it again, bolder this time. "Kirk."

Kirk slowly raised his bloodied hands up to return the embrace. "Will, it's me. I'm here; it's me."

He affirmed, but even so, as he continued to try to comfort Will, he had to get moving. He had to warn Hernan. He had wasted enough time trying to get back to Gotham by hitch hiking, that there was barely any time left before Waller had Hernan right where she wanted him, and Kirk… He couldn't lose Hernan.

"Will." Kirk placed a gentle hand on Will's shoulder to try to get him to detach himself long enough to talk sense to him.

His hand never made it.

A sudden hand snatched Kirk's wrist, while an entire force moved him, pushed him. He was slammed against the wall, a broken cry of pain breaking past him.

"W-Will…"

"Shut up." Will's eyes narrowed on him dangerously as he pinned him there. There was little resemblance to those warm, brown eyes Kirk had loved. They were livid, feral in a way that made Kirk feel as though this was not Will. This was someone else, a crazed stranger – Will would never hurt him. He'd never do this, but then Will's snarl turned into a bitter bark of a laugh.

"I don't know who you think you are, but you're not Kirk." Will grounded out between clenched teeth. "Kirk would never leave me for three years without a trace, without so much as a single phone call or letter to let me know that he was at least alive. No, my Kirk would never hurt me that way. He couldn't even hurt a fucking fly much less his best friend. So tell me, imposter, why should I believe you?"

"Because I am sorry." Kirk felt his chest cave in with guilt. "I'm sorry for letting you believe that I was gone. I know I should have written or called, but… I couldn't drag you in that mess, Will. The Kirk you knew… he was gone."

"So who's this now?"

"I'm… not sure, but Will, please, I need your help. I can tell you everything after, but right now someone needs me."

Will's hold on Kirk loosened a little, but his eyes remained firm. He opened his mouth to say something, most likely yell Kirk suspected, but nothing came. Not even an incoherent sound, but silence. Will shut his mouth, and his hold left Kirk's shoulders for a moment before he pulled him in close.

"I can't forgive you… not now, Kirk, but I'd be damned if I didn't help you as a brother."

Kirk stiffened at Will's admission, but he deserved it. He had hurt him, unforgivably so as he would spend a life time making it up to him.

"Thank you, Will."

"Yeah…" Will let go of him. His brown eyes had lost its firmness as they now looked weary. "You wanted the nanite-bat serum?"

"Yes, if you have it."

"I do, but I changed the nanites."

Kirk stilled. "By how much?"

"Not much, just changed the material. They're made of lead now."

"Well, there's no time now to change them back. We'll just have to hope it works." Kirk replied as Will led him to the room where he kept them.

Upon entering, the office had not changed, not since the last time he had seen it. Kirk thought once Will and Tina got married, Tina would have redecorated the place, but nothing seemed to be out of place.

When Will went to hand him the serum, it was then Kirk noticed his ring finger was bare. Did he never get married? But Tina… Kirk had heard her voice over the com earlier. They must still be together, right?

"Your ring?"

Will sighed, "Yeah… I still have it in my drawer. I've been waiting for my best man to give it to me, but he disappeared years ago."

Kirk nodded, and swallowed down the bitterness that rose up once more.

"Do you want me to help you?" Will offered but Kirk just shook his head. He remembered all those years when Will had helped him. His hand shook with uncertainty, not knowing it would turn him into a monster.

Now Kirk knew. He knew it wasn't the serum that had turned him into a monster. He always had the monster in him – the serum had only awakened it.

He prepared the needle, and held it steady. Monster or not, he needed the strength the serum gave him to help Hernan. He couldn't do it in the current form he was in. He couldn't help anyone in the form he was in.

It was done. The serum had gone in as smoothly as it did the first time, but this time he was ready. He was prepared for the effects it would leave him with.

"Are you okay?" Will asked.

"Yes, I will be," Kirk replied. "Thank you for everything, Will. But I must go now."

"Already?"

"Yes, a friend needs my help."

"And if I need you?" Will asked, his voice nearly breaking. Kirk paused for a moment before looking back at Will with a broken smile.

"I know you'll be okay, Will. You always are, and I wouldn't have made it this far without having your voice in my head telling me everything is going to be alright. But right now… there's someone I need to help more.

Will was silent for a moment before asking. "Need a car?"

Kirk couldn't help but laugh at that. "I might. Are you offering?"

"Just… make sure she comes back in one piece, okay?" Will tossed the keys over to Kirk.

Kirk caught them. "Thanks, I will."

"You better," Will replied. "And preferably in less than a year."

Kirk smiled, before moving to hug Will close to him. He wasn't ever the one to initiate a hug, but at that moment… he was just glad to have been able to see Will again. He was happy to see him unharmed and in one piece.

"I've missed you dearly, old friend."

"Shit… I swore I wouldn't cry." Will's voice cracked, and Kirk only held him tighter. He held Will for as long as he could before Kirk knew he had to get going. However, before he could even move from Will, Will gave his back a solid pat before gently pushing Kirk towards the door.

"Go on now. I'll see you around."

"I'll see you soon. I promise."

Will heard the front door shut, and just like that Kirk was gone, again. His knees felt weak at the thought of it, but he was alive. He had been alive all these years and yet… Will wanted to throttle something, but at the same he couldn't move. He couldn't move an inch –

It was as if he were frozen, as if the world had stopped. Instead he only fell into his seat with his head in his hands, and a smile crookedly hanging from his features.

"You shouldn't make promises you may never keep."

* * *

Hernan wasn't sure what had brought him to her doorstep. It had been a while since he last dropped by. How tall had his nephew grow since he last saw him? Did he lose any teeth yet?

Hernan smiled at the thought, and as he raised his hand to knock on the door, it opened.

Warm brown eyes meet his. They were dark with wisdom he never had as he smiled at her.

"Buenas tardes, hermana. I hope this isn't a bad time."

"Hernan?" Dark brows furrowed with worry, akin to the way their mother used to do. Nonetheless she wheeled her chair back to let him in. "No, hermano, you are always welcome. But quiet, I just put Mateo to bed."

"Lo siento. I shouldn't stay long." Hernan walked in. "And your husband, is he home?"

"No, he's on a business trip. He won't be home for a few days," Valentina explained. "Let me make you some tea and then you can tell me why you're here."

"Gracias, but must there be a reason to visit you other than wanting to see you?"

Valentina stilled her chair to look back at Hernan. Her dark eyes were blackened by years of bullshit, she had told him once. They weren't taking any more, her eyes clearly told him, along with sit down before I come over there with a spoon.

Hernan sat down at her kitchen table wordlessly. He watched her silently as she moved around the kitchen with ease. You could never tell the restrictions the chair thrust upon her. She had none. Like all Guerras, she overcame what life threw at her. Now if only Hernan could do the same.

She placed the steaming mug in front of Hernan before coming to place her chair across from him with a mug of her own. A child's handprint, most likely his nephew's, was painted across the ceramic mug she held between her strong hands. It was heartwarming to see, and Hernan knew Valentina was the best mother there was.

She blew at the steam that rose from the rim of her mug before taking a small sip. She hummed. It was good. A little too sweet for Hernan's tastes, but he wouldn't dare say anything to Valentina.

She set her mug down softly on the table. "Now talk."

"About?"

"Don't give me that, Hernan. As much as I know you love me, you only come on holidays or when you're upset. Easter is months away so what's up, mi querido? What's eating at you?"

Hernan scoffed lightly as he went to deny her claim but one sharp raise of a brow silenced him. He looked away. His blue eyes focused on the steam that rose from his mug. A silent pause feel between them as Hernan's finger tapped against the handle of his mug thoughtfully and Valentina waited patiently.

At last, his voice softer than before and lacking the air of confidence he usually exuded, Hernan said honestly. "I don't know what I'm doing anymore."

"We never do."

Hernan cracked a smile at this sister's optimism.

"It is life, is it not?" Valentina smiled. "But not all of life has to be confusing. What has you thinking?"

"Am I... am I being the hero I can be?" Hernan asked, looking at Valentina to weigh her features carefully. Her smile faded for a moment before it reappeared again with an incredulous scoff.

"Were you not the one who told me that justice is not black and white? You said, 'sometimes you must be dark so others may be light'."

Hernan laughed at his own rhetoric thrown back at him. "No, I don't remember telling you that. I might have slipped a line to Lane, although I never took you as one to read the _Planet_."

"I like to stay on top of things," Valentina replied simply. "And where else am I gonna cut out pictures of you to stick on the fridge?"

Hernan turned to look at said fridge as true to her word, there was a picture of him lifting up a whole train car off the exploded tracks. It was stuck to the fridge with a red heart magnet next to his nephew's 100% vocabulary quiz.

"I'm flattered." Hernan chuckled at the sight. "Although I hate to take up space from Mateo."

"He has more than enough space," Valentina assured him. "I'm so proud of the two little men in my life."

Hernan couldn't help but grin at that. It seemed no matter who he was, or how old he got, he'd always be Valentina's little brother. Her words made him smile, and it was what Hernan had come looking for. He was looking for reassurance, to know that everything was going to be alright.

"So, are you going to tell about this chica in your life?"

Hernan nearly choked on his tea. "Who?"

"You have a glow to you Hernan. You didn't have it when you first walked in, but I see it now. You can't hide it from me. I've known you for too long."

"Ah, I don't know of any chicas whom you may be referring to."

"Chico?"

Hernan sipped his tea, hiding the smile that threatened to form across his lips.

"Ah-ha!" Valentina slammed her mug down with greater force than needed, blinded by her victory. "Tell me about him."

Hernan shook his head. "There is no 'him'. He needs… his space to find himself."

"I see, and so you came here to mope about it."

"I'm not moping."

"You're moping."

"I thought I was glowing."

Valentina clicked her tongue reproachfully towards Hernan. "If you're not going to tell me about him, then at least tell me what you did to shoo him away."

"Why do you assume it was me?"

"So you're blaming him?"

"No." Hernan shook his head lightly. "I… it was not a good time for either of us."

"Hm." Valentina hummed cryptically behind the rim of her mug, but said nothing more upon the matter other than. "If he can make you glow like a little bug, then I expect him over for Easter."

Hernan went to retort when he heard the thundering sound of something large rolling about a mile away from where they were. It clanked like metal, machinery, a big one and more than one.

Waller.

Hernan clenched his fists causing the handle of the mug to break off and tea to spill everywhere.

"Go to Mateo, and stay there."

"Hernan?"

"Now, Valentina," Hernan ordered. He knew the day would come when Waller would make good on her word, he just didn't think today would be it. Why now? Why at this moment?

Hernan flew out of the house, and up high in the sky. It was a moonless night, but he could still see the troops rolling in with bulletproof vehicles and two tanks. Hernan scoffed. Did Waller think she could take him down with two tanks? He could catch their shells, and if he was forced to, he could carry Valentina and his nephew far away from here.

Waller wasn't taking the last of his family. She had tried once, and he was locked away for it, probed within every inch of his body. Never again.

"Waller." his voice boomed the great distance between them, but he could feel her lips curling at her name. He could see it through the metal of the car she was held in.

"Turn back now, and I won't crush you."

The tanks rolled on. Hernan could draw a line between his sister's home and them with his heat vision, but it would set fire to the woods around them and ultimately the house. He had to go in himself.

When it was clear they were not stopping, Hernan used his heat vision to burn their tires, being careful not to hit the trees. Shots were fired up at him, but the bullets fruitlessly bounced off him, not evening leaving a mere scratch. It was a nuisance at best.

The car he worked on broke down as he moved onto the next. Hearing the group begin to rapidly shout various commands nearly made Hernan smile.

Pathetic. He expected more from Waller than this floundering group.

 _'Boom!'_

Hernan moved quickly, catching hot cylinder of the shell in his hands.

 _'Using your tanks now, are we?'_ Hernan whirled the shell back at the group as he watched them quickly disperse.

It exploded.

They were showered in dirt and smoke, some crying in pain from the shards of scrap metal that were projected straight through them. Of those still left, they moved onward. Even as a number of their comrades laid bleeding, and crying for help, they moved on.

"Haven't you had enough?" Hernan peered over the group for Waller. Surely, she was still alive. There was no killing that woman. She was like smoke, a poisonous gas that would choke you without thought, and if you tried to grab her she would slip through your fingers and dissipate into thin air as if she were never there. More so, she was hidden behind swaths bureaucratic red tape – it was impossible to find where you would even begin to cut.

Hernan seethed. They didn't slow, as now they were nearly a half a mile away. If they wanted to, they could aim for the house. Hernan couldn't have that.

Making up his mind, he dove in. He gave them their chance. He warned them, but Waller didn't listen. Waller never did.

As soon as they saw him coming, they opened fire on him again, raining bullets. Nothing struck. Nothing slowed Hernan down as he burned through their bullet proof vests. He burned their hands that held their rifles. The tank fired. At such close range, Hernan was caught off guard.

The force threw him back, causing him to smash into several trees, and they toppled over like dominos in his wake.

"Mierda…" Hernan coughed at the smoke, and wiped the dirt off his dark coat before throwing himself back into the fight. It wasn't over yet.

"Waller!" He yelled. He paid little heed to the bullets that ratcheted off him, but only focused on finding her. Sever the head of the snake and you're left with a floundering tail.

"Subject 036." Waller replied calmly. Hernan turned sharply in the direction of her voice only to be shot in the back. It burned. It stung like a bee as Hernan reached behind him to find that whatever hit him seared through his protective black coat.

 _'Shame.'_ Hernan mused for a moment. _'I liked this coat.'_

His eyes turned back to Waller only to be struck again. He winced, but didn't stop. He moved towards her looming figure only to be fired at, stung by a laser he couldn't see.

"Enough!" Hernan's eyes flickered red, but no heat was produced. He paused…

"Having trouble?" Waller asked at the bewildered look Hernan sported. His heat vision… gone.

"What is this?" Hernan glared up at her, wanting nothing more than to burn a hole right between her viper eyes.

"It's an anti-radiation ray. It's been in the works for three years and it seems it works."

"Anti-radiation?" Hernan focused once more to get his heat vision to work, to fire at anything, but nothing. Not even a small spark was produced.

"Thanks to one of our scientists, we were able to discover the source of your powers: the sun." Waller explained, "Your cells feed off of their radiation during the day, and can store some for days, months even. With this ray, however, we can suck the radiation straight from your cells. No solar radiation, no powers."

Hernan's jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists at his sides. He still had his super strength. He could still punch a hole through her gut if he wanted to, but then he felt another sting between his shoulders.

He went down.

His muscles spasmed at the shower of rays that stung him left and right. He gritted his teeth, the pain stinging as his entire body felt as though it were on fire. But he wouldn't cry, he wouldn't show more weakness in front of Waller than he already had. This wouldn't stop him. He wouldn't let it, and yet his muscles clenched to his bones refusing to release long enough to move. He couldn't stand.

Waller grinned as she made her way over to Hernan fearlessly. Her eyes gleamed with victory, as she took her time to get to Hernan. He wasn't getting up anytime soon. They both knew it.

The firing stopped, and Hernan's muscles gave. He collapsed.

"You see, subject 036, you are no god." Waller looked down at him. "You are no man. You are simply an alien who does not belong here."

"What… d-do you want?" Hernan rasped through clenched teeth.

"I wish to put you back in your cage."

"What makes you think I'll stay in that shithole?"

Waller's smile widened. "The one who occupies your cell now is a dear friend of yours I believe."

Hernan stilled at her words. She couldn't mean… impossible.

"If you don't go back, he will stay in your place. You might have survived two years in that cell sanity still intact, I can't say the same for Langstrom."

Hernan remained deadly silent, glaring at Waller's feet as she stood before him.

"Of course, if that's not enough of an incentive, then I can always tell the man I have stationed at your sister's house to pull the trigger. I just thought I'd try something new this time."

Hernan groaned.

"What was that?"

"I said…" Hernan pulled himself together enough to glare up at Waller. "Don't hurt them."

"I won't if I don't have to. All you have to do is say yes."

Hernan clenched the loose dirt beneath his fingers, but he could feel what little remained of his strength slowly ebbing away from him. He couldn't fight back. He had lost his heat vision and now his strength. He didn't know what else he had lost or what he had left. He could try to fly, but his body still ached. It still screamed in protest when he tried to stand. Flying was not an option.

"Well, do you yield?"

Hernan cursed her, but he couldn't let anything happen to Kirk. It was his fault he was in this mess. It wasn't Kirk's, and Valentina… He swore he'd never hurt her again after the incident that crippled her for life. Thus, he willed himself to form the words. He willed himself to move past the bitterness of the dreaded words, to move past the feeling of being weak, small against Waller once more.

"I—"

"Waller, this is sergeant Miller, we have a situation down at—" The voice was abruptly cut off before muffled cries could be heard. Waller stood up with her com at hand.

"Miller? Miller come in." Waller spoke into the receiver, but there was only silence. She turned to a few of her men. "Check out Miller's crew. And you, contain subject 036 and get him up and into the car."

Waller didn't spare a glance over to Hernan, but simply began issuing new orders, and moving to pull her team together. Hernan watched her stunned.

"Fire at anything that moves." Waller commanded into the receiver.

Hernan moved, "No!"

A shot fired.

"Hernan!"

Hands came up to feel the wet warm liquid seep through his shirt. He looked down. His hands were stained red.

"Hernan!"

 _'Kirk…?'_ A smile crossed his features at his name being called. He knew that voice. He had listened to that voice for days through a vent. His days surrounded the times when he would be able to hear the other's voice laugh or tell him seemingly pointless stories that meant the world to him. He knew it. He knew it was Kirk.

But his knees gave and as that voice, that voice he loved was drowned out by gunfire.

 _'Kirk….'_ He shouldn't be here. He should be home. He should be with his friends he spoke so fondly of. The ones he lived for. Why wasn't he with them? Why wasn't he in Gotham?

Did Waller really capture him or had she been lying this entire time?

 _'Kirk...'_ Hernan struggled to keep his eyes open. _'Kirk.'_ He called out to him, or did he? Hernan wasn't sure. He wasn't sure whether what he saw was real or whether this was the side effect of the anti-radiation rays. He couldn't be certain that this was just an illusion, a figment of his imagination of what he wanted to see most at the moment.

Red blurred his vision. They blinked. They were eyes. His eyes.

 _'Kirk… run away.'_

"I'm right here, Hernan. You're going to be okay; I'm right here. Stay with me."

 _'Always.'_


	12. Chapter 12

"Hernan!" Hernan was down. Kirk had heard the shot echo through him like thunder. Another shot and his very being quaked. Hernan should have been fine. He was invulnerable, his skin impenetrable to most likely an atomic bomb, and yet Hernan was falling to his knees.

"Hernan!" Kirk ran past the bullets that flew at him. He wasn't as invulnerable as Hernan was, but normal bullets couldn't penetrate his skin. They simply ricocheted off of him. He paid little heed to them. His vision was tunneled and the end led straight to Hernan.

He saw them raise their guns. He saw those fingers move to pull the trigger.

 _'No… No, don't hurt him.'_ Kirk ran faster than he ever had in his life, as if he were flying, as if wings had sprouted from his back and took off.

 _'Don't touch him.'_ Kirk propelled through the bodies that tried to stop him. _'Don't you dare touch him.'_

He launched himself before Hernan, fangs bared and bloodied towards those that fired at him, at Hernan, but Kirk shielded him. No one was going to touch him. No one was ever going to hurt him again.

His cold body felt like it was on fire. It burned with rage as the demon within him was no longer there. It was him. He was the monster. He was the demon.

The shots seemed to rain down on them until they stopped all at once. Just like that, their fingers moved from the trigger. A pause. A long, bewildered pause that Kirk couldn't decipher, but he never took his eyes off of them. He remained in front of Hernan as his shield when they lowered their guns.

They fell back.

Had they given up? Were they retreating? Why? Kirk chanced a swift glance down at Hernan. Those blue eyes looked back at him through a heavy-lidded gaze.

"I'm right here, Hernan. You're going to be okay; I'm right here. Stay with me."

Kirk tried to assure him though red eyes turned back to the wooded field. The troops were retreating, or at least those remaining were falling back. Whether it was a trick or not, Kirk had to take the chance. Hernan was bleeding. He could smell the blood from where he stood. It was rich, and unique in a way he couldn't describe other than alien. Nonetheless, he knew it. He had tasted it before, and it was Hernan. Only Hernan's blood smelled and tasted the way it did.

"Hernan, we've got to move," Kirk told the fallen hero as he moved to try to sit him up. Hernan mumbled something incomprehensible, but he seemed to be some level of consciousness. Hopefully he remained that way. At least, long enough for Kirk to find a source of radiation for Hernan to absorb. Kirk was by no means a medical doctor, and it would be hours before the sun rose.

"This might hurt," Kirk warned him, but he moved to place Hernan's arm over his shoulder before going to lift him. Hernan was heavy, but Kirk would manage. With the strength the nanite-bat serum gave him, it would be enough to carry him the long way back.

"Hernan, stay with me." Kirk tried to keep Hernan conscious. "We're almost there."

Hernan mumbled.

"It's okay."

"I said…" Hernan coughed, wincing as he did, "y-you're invited… Easter."

"Easter?"

"Hm." Hernan hummed, a smile curling the corners of his bloodied lips upward.

"We can talk about that later." Kirk felt a little easier with Hernan talking, and Valentina's house in sight. "We're almost there."

At the sight of the two approaching, Valentina rolled out to meet them. Mateo trailed behind his mother. After what he had been through, he was scared to be alone, and no one blamed him. Kirk had found the two backed into a corner of the house. Valentina hid her son behind her as she stared down the barrel of a gun with a fierce look that rivaled a mother bear.

"Hernan! What happened?" She cried at the sight of her wounded brother in Kirk's hold.

"He needs radiation. Do you have any UV lights?" Kirk didn't slow his pace as Hernan had grown deadly quiet for the past few yards. His weary head rested heavily against Kirk's shoulder, while the smell of blood grew stronger.

"Out in the back. We have a greenhouse," Valentina instructed. She yelled at the boy something in rapid Spanish Kirk didn't quite catch, but the boy nodded. He took the handles on the back of her chair, and pushed her quickly around the house. Kirk followed.

"Rapido, Mateo, rapido," Valentina said quickly as she moved to turn on the UV lights of the greenhouse, and Mateo moved to set aside various pots from the table for Kirk to rest Hernan on.

Kirk thanked them, and moved to stand under the bright lights that burned across the table. He felt his skin began to prick slightly at the exposure, but he would live.

Once he laid Hernan on the table, he checked for wounds, both entrance and exit wounds hoping he wouldn't have to fish for anything. Luckily there seemed to be an even amount of exit and entrance wounds as he set Hernan fully back onto the table.

Hernan didn't move. He didn't wince. Didn't even inhale sharply or make any kind of pained noise. He remained silent, deadly quiet.

"Is he going to be okay?" Valentina asked softly. He dark eyes never left Hernan's form.

"We'll have to wait and see," Kirk replied equally as soft. He didn't believe Hernan was gone, but he lost a lot of blood. It had soaked through the man's dark coat. Kirk smiled at the thought of Hernan not being too happy when he saw the condition his coat was in. There was no amount of detergent that was going to remove it unless he wanted to bleach the entire thing and wear white.

He nearly laughed at the thought. Terrible, wasn't it? Kirk shouldn't laugh. Kirk shouldn't smile, but he couldn't think rationally at the moment. He couldn't think of Hernan being gone, but instead thought of what Hernan would do when he woke up. How would he react to Kirk returning? What would he think when he saw Kirk had transformed back into a monster? Would he be mad, angry, think him ungrateful?

Kirk didn't see that. Hernan never saw him that way. He would most likely not make much note of it, but only that Kirk was there. Kirk had not left him. Kirk never would.

"Thank you, muchas gracias, for saving my family."

Red eyes blinked, surprised at the sudden voice he heard beside him only to be met with a bright smile from Valentina. She had one hand wrapped around Hernan's wounded shoulder as she looked up at Kirk with dark eyes that held nothing but gratitude.

"There's no need to thank me. Hernan had saved me a few months ago, and for that, I will always be grateful."

Valentina's smile widened. "I see, so you're the chico?"

 _'I'm what?'_

Valentina laughed at Kirk's bewildered look. "Thank you for taking care of my brother…?"

"Kirk," he supplied for her.

"Valentina. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Yes, it's lovely to meet you too."

"Now all that's left is for this tonto to get up." she laughed, and Kirk couldn't help but smile too. Yes, Hernan would be okay. They both were sure of it.

Morning came and went followed by night. Still Hernan did not stir, nor did Kirk leave the greenhouse. Valentina assured Kirk he could. He was burning up. His once pale skin had turned into a painful pink.

Kirk shook his head. He didn't want to go too far. The sound of Hernan's blood rushing through his body was the only thing keeping Kirk sane at the moment, but he didn't tell her this. By the sad look in her dark eyes he didn't need to. She knew.

Instead she brought him something to eat and drink, and Kirk thanked her. He didn't want to decline anything she offered, yet he still felt badly when he poured the offered water into one of the plants when she wasn't looking.

The food he left untouched. There was nothing he could do about it. She seemed to only nod in understanding, or so she thought.

"You should eat." she tried to encourage him. "Hernan would want you to eat."

Kirk lightly shook his head, "Thank you for your kindness, but I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to stomach it."

She nodded sympathetically and took the food away. "Very well."

By the second day, Kirk began to grow worried. Should Hernan be out this long? Were the lights not working? What was the wattage? Was it not strong enough?

Kirk went to look underneath one. He leaned over Hernan for a moment to peer under one of the bright bulbs. The bright light burned as he winced at the feeling. His skin felt sore. He shouldn't have stayed in the greenhouse as long as he had. Even if he hid in the shade of the table, his skin still burned bright red.

"You're red."

Red eyes swiftly looked down at Hernan, startled by the hand that went to touch his sunburnt skin.

He flinched. "H-Hernan."

"Hm?" Hernan hummed. A languid smile crossed his features, but his blue eyes belied his amusement.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine, but you should really get into the shade." Hernan's once amused look was swiftly dashed away by worry. The warm hand that touched his arm went to pull him close as Hernan sat up. He moved as if he were never hurt, as if he hadn't passed out for two days straight.

Kirk inhaled sharply. His body was on fire.

Then the intensity of his burn lessened at the feeling of Hernan wrapping his bloodied dark coat over him. Even though the blood was dry, and the jacket ruined forever most likely, Kirk couldn't help but smile at the gesture. Then the burning ceased at all once to a dull ache. The lights were off.

"Better?" Hernan asked him.

"But you need the light. We don't know if you're fully—" Kirk was suddenly silenced by the feeling of cool air being brushed against his burning cheek. It was soothing.

"I'm fine," Hernan insisted. "Now we must take care of you. Do you think aloe will work on your skin?"

Kirk clutched the ruined jacket close to him, hiding his smile behind the singed collar. Hernan was alright. Hernan was walking, talking, cognitive, it made him want to laugh, or grin stupidly, or just do every kind of response that most likely wasn't correct. Most people would probably cry tears of joy or just embrace him, but Kirk remained rooted to the spot.

That was, until he felt an arm wrap around him, and cool lips pressed against his red forehead. "Lo siento. I'm sorry I made you worry over me."

Kirk moved. He didn't think about it. He just moved on his own accord. He leaned against Hernan, and pressed his forehead against his shoulder. His body was too sore to do anything beyond that, but Hernan seemed to understand.

He smiled. "It's good to have you back too, Kirk."

 _'As if I could leave you.'_

* * *

Valentina wrapped her arms around Hernan as soon as she saw him with a red Kirk not too far behind. She laughed.

"Vete aquí, chico. Come, I'll get you some aloe." Brown eyes looked over at Hernan knowingly while Hernan only shrugged at the use of chico. There was no use to denying it now. He simply went along with her, and watched in amusement as she fussed over Kirk.

She applied aloe carefully over his sunburnt skin while tutting softly at the ripped clothes he still wore.

Kirk sheepishly averted his gaze, "I'm sorry, Hernan. They were yours."

Hernan shook his head lightly, smiling at how Kirk apologized for something he most likely couldn't help.

"I have more. What's more concerning is how they became that way."

Kirk kept his gaze at the edge of the sink. He didn't want Hernan to worry or fuss over him, especially since the one who was closest to death only a few days ago was Hernan himself.

"I should go check on Mateo. Hernan, you can take over here, sí?" Valentina excused herself after handing the bottle of aloe to Hernan. They needed a moment to themselves, she figured. Hernan thanked her along with Kirk.

So far Valentina had gotten Kirk's face and neck. The rest was hidden beneath the large dark coat. Hernan refrained from grimacing at the condition of it.

"May I?" Hernan asked like the first time he had tended to Kirk. It was nothing he hadn't seen before, but Kirk appreciated the sentiment nonetheless. Kirk carefully shrugged out of the dark coat, and handed it to Hernan before he went to work at the ripped shirt.

Dark brows furrowed with worry, "There's blood." Hernan looked at the stained shirt, yet the red skin underneath was unmarred.

Kirk looked away. "When you dropped me off, Waller took me in."

Hernan visibly stiffened, but offered no more. He instead took what remained of the shirt from Kirk and with a twirl of his finger asked Kirk to turn around. Kirk did so. His back was covered in splotches of varying degrees of red.

"Not bad, amigo."

Kirk nodded. "Hernan, this… this isn't the time or place for it, but one day will you tell me about Waller?"

Hernan's hand paused at the question for a moment before he continued to apply aloe to the burnt spots.

"They called me subject036." Hernan spoke softly least his sister be eavesdropping from the other side of the bathroom door. "I had heard over the news about a drug lord who had kidnapped a school of girls to sell in his trafficking ring. One of them looked like my sister, and I went to his residence to find where he held the girls."

"You saved them," Kirk said having remembered the news, however they didn't mention Superman. They didn't mention Hernan's involvement, but only that the girls had been freed and released, and the drug lord brutally slaughtered. No one at the time cared about how he died. It was good riddance most said. Others said it was justice. Kirk was too busy trying to get through college to really listen.

"Sí, but the way I did it, alerted Waller to where I was. She had been keeping an eye on me for years, and at that moment decided to take me in. I was contained for almost two years, and I imagine you know the rest."

Kirk silently nodded. He did, or at least he believed he did. Nonetheless, he wouldn't ask any more. What was done was done. What mattered was the threat Waller posed them. Did she still want Hernan? What if she figured out a new weapon to use against him? What if Kirk wasn't there to help him? What if—?

"Thank you, Kirk, for saving my family."

"It was the least I could do."

"No, it wasn't." Hernan's gaze met Kirk's in the reflection of the mirror. "I will forever be thankful to you, Kirk, for more than you'll ever know."

Kirk wasn't sure what Hernan meant. Hernan had done far more for him than Kirk had, but he silently nodded to the other's words nonetheless, and allowed Hernan to finish the job of wrapping him up.

Valentine softly knocked on the door a moment later with a change of spare clothes. "They're my husband's, but they should fit you alright."

Kirk thanked her, and true to her word they did. They weren't as big as Hernan's which he was thankful for, but they still hung a little loose around his middle which accommodated the bandages around his torso and middle Hernan had insisted on wrapping around him.

"You will be staying for dinner, no?" Valentina asked.

Kirk shook his head. "Thank you, but I should get going."

Hernan's dark brows rose in surprise, but he nonetheless asked.

"Do you need me to drop you off anywhere?"

"Thank you, but I already have something I need to return to a friend," Kirk replied. "Thank you for your hospitality."

"No, thank you for all that you have done for my family," Valentina returned. Kirk smiled, but said nothing more. It really was the least he could do. Had anything happened to Hernan because of him, Kirk didn't think he'd ever forgive himself.

Surprisingly, Hernan and Valentina let him go without a fuss. He had expected Hernan to maybe ask him why the hurry, or for Valentina to insist that he at least leave with a full stomach, but he was thankful. He was thankful they didn't stall him. Hernan deserved to be with his family, and Kirk owed a long overdue apology to his friends. He had hurt them for far too long by running away, and maybe, like the way Kirk had stayed with Hernan, he could reign in his hunger. He had to.

Although Hernan hadn't mentioned how he had returned to his old form, to this monster, Hernan had seen the change. He knew, but he didn't seem to know what that fully meant to Kirk. It meant going back to him always having to be careful about his hunger. It meant being afraid of losing control, and attacking someone, anyone.

But he couldn't regret it now. He did what had to be done. He had to help Hernan, and for that, he always would, but… Kirk shook his head. He'd have to trust that this time he would be smarter. This time he knew the monster, accepted that it was him, and he would live with it. He'd live in the skin he was in no matter how monstrous it was, no matter how ugly or terrifying it appeared, for there were people that needed him. There was Will, Tina, and now Hernan, and he would protect them for as long as he could. If it had to be a monster to do it, then so be it.

He pulled up in front of Will's and Tina's flat. He hadn't even made it up the stoop when the front door swung open, and Tina rushed to him. Her arms wrapped around him, and though it stung, Kirk returned the embrace.

She cried. She openly sobbed, yet a laugh escaped it her. It was a mixture of everything that exploded all at once, but Kirk held her. He held her through it all.

The sound of the front door opening made Kirk look up to see Will too. Will smiled, but he didn't rush him like Tina had. Perhaps it was because Will already knew Kirk was alive. He already got over the initial shock. Nonetheless, Will came down to clap a firm hand on Kirk's shoulder.

"I was beginning to worry you wouldn't come back," he said through Tina's tears.

"I promised I would," Kirk replied, and it was then Tina pulled away to cup his red face between her warm hands.

"You're all sunburnt." she laughed, but the laugh was broken, disjointed in the way she most likely felt. Hurt but thankful, overjoyed to have Kirk back yet furious by how long it took.

"Come inside." she sniffled. "I'll get you some ointment."

Kirk thanked her, and she took his hand in hers and led him inside. Very much like the way Valentina fussed over him, Tina did too. She didn't mention his red eyes or the coldness of his body. She didn't point out the fangs that sometimes peaked between his lips.

She only fumbled with her words as she rambled about all the things she had to catch Kirk up on. His parents had apparently sold his apartment when he was declared missing, but Tina had kept his favorite things just in case he came back. She had them in storage which Kirk could have any time he asked. She spoke about their various friends, or mostly they were her friends who Tina mostly spoke about to Kirk. Some got married, and some even had kids. It was then Kirk noticed Tina didn't have a ring either just like Will. She didn't even wear her engagement ring that Will had saved up months to buy her. Kirk remembered because he watched Will consume an unhealthy amount of ramen for months straight because they were less than a dollar a pack.

He wanted to ask why, but then again, did he have the right to know? Was he the one who caused this rift that was between Tina and Will?

"There," Tina said with finality as she went to place the ointment back. "Feel better?"

"Yes, thank you," Kirk replied, but he couldn't return her smile, and that was when she let her smile fade too. Her blue eyes grew somber as her hands clenched together with words she wanted to say, but couldn't bring herself to say them.

So, Kirk made the first move, "I know what I did to you, and to Will is unforgivable. I thought it was the right thing to do, but I see now that perhaps it wasn't." she remained still. "I'm sorrier than words can describe, Tina. I… what happened to me, I couldn't let you see that."

"And what happened to you?" Tina interjected, her blue eyes livid.

Kirk deserved it as much as she deserved the truth.

He gestured to himself. "Look at me, Tina. I've become a monster. I survived all these years feeding off of blood. I was much more wild, violent than I appear now, and had I come to you sooner… I could never forgive myself if I had hurt you. Even hurting you emotionally…" Kirk averted his gaze for a moment to find the right words, but there were none.

He turned back to her. "I am not asking for forgiveness. What I did to you is unforgivable, but you deserve an apology: I am truly sorry."

Tina remained silent. She didn't move, didn't speak, but simply looked at Kirk. She looked at his red eyes and his fangs. She looked at the pointed ears, and she had felt his cool skin.

She saw a monster, Kirk knew. The longer she looked, the more self-conscious he became, however, when he turned to look away from her, her hand stopped him. She gently cupped his cheek to guide his face back towards her.

The corners of her lips softly curled upward. "You once asked me to look at you, Kirk, and I'm looking, but what I see is not a monster. All I see is you, Kirk. You haven't changed. Physically perhaps, but your heart remains the same: warm."

Red eyes blinked back at her. How? How could she not see the monster that he was? How could she think he was still himself? But like with Hernan, Kirk wanted to believe her. He wanted to believe what she said was true as he rested his hand over hers.

"I do not deserve your kindness."

Tina laughed, "No you don't; you deserve much more than you know. However, you do deserve a little pain from me, so prepare yourself. You're sunburnt, but I'm going to hug you."

Kirk didn't have time to register her words completely, didn't even have time to steel himself for the hug he received. But even as it burned, Kirk returned the embrace whole heartedly. He was overjoyed to have her back.

The next few days, Kirk thought he'd be walking on egg shells around them, but Tina wouldn't have it. She hugged him whenever she could, and talked to him about anything and everything that had come to mind. Will however just looked at Kirk. He didn't make a move other than to pat his back at times, or say a few words if Tina roped him in a conversation.

Kirk couldn't blame him, but Tina encouraged Kirk to just give him time. Will was still shocked. He'd get over it. He just needed time to think.

A few more days passed, and Will still hadn't changed. Kirk feared he never would. He had hurt him too much. Will had already mourned him, or perhaps he was wiser than the rest and saw who he really was, a monster. So, Kirk kept his distance. He allowed Will his deserved space. Will didn't seem to notice.

A week passed, and Kirk began to feel his hunger returning. It was a dull ache in the pit of his stomach, but he worried what would become of him when it was no longer an itch. What would happen then? How long did he have until his hunger would consume him?

Kirk isolated himself on the fire escape, wary of running into Tina least she worry any more about him. That was when he heard a tap on the window. He looked over.

"Hungry?" he jiggled the blood bag as the sloshing sound made his heart skip a beat.

"Will?"

Will moved to push the window the rest of the way up so he could climb out and sit beside Kirk on the fire escape.

"Here." he dropped the bag on Kirk's lap knowing he wouldn't outwardly take it himself.

"Where did you get this?"

Will smiled. "Don't ask, buddy. Just drink. I won't tell Tina."

"She already knows," Kirk told him. "That I feed on blood. How did you know?"

Will shrugged. "Overheard your bathroom speech."

Kirk nodded. That made sense. What didn't make sense was Will's indifference about the whole matter. Did he not find it creepy? Weird? Wrong?

Nonetheless, Kirk thanked him and began to drink slowly. Neither of them said a word as Kirk ate. Even after he was done, they remained in an uncomfortable silence. Kirk wondered if he should break it. He wondered if he should say an apology Will most likely didn't want to hear, but it was the right thing to do, right?

"Save it," Will interjected before Kirk's lips couldn't even move to form the words. Kirk remained still as told. He averted his gaze awkwardly, and his fingers clenched around the empty blood bag anxiously.

Will released a long sigh. "I know I've been distant towards you. Perhaps it's your paleness that throws me off. It makes me feel like I'm looking at a ghost."

Kirk nodded. He couldn't blame Will for that. He knew what he looked like, and it seemed Will did too.

"I know I'm not." Will continued. "It's just that I've been living with your ghost for too long. It's hard to see anything else, but I will. I know I will. You're my brother Kirk, no matter what you do or look like. That's not changing."

"Thank you."

"I'm not done. I'm still mad, but I get it. You didn't want to hurt us. You were protecting us in some weird backwards way, and for that, thank you. But you're stupid, you know?" Will scoffed. "I thought I was the one with one and a half brain cells, but you definitely only have one if you thought for a moment we would have given up on you. That's what upsets me the most."

"I'm sorry."

"I know you are. You always are," Will interjected before Kirk could say anymore. His dark eyes turned to Kirk unreadable, but the smile Kirk had remembered, had loved, crossed Will's lips.

He outstretched his hand to Kirk for a shake. Kirk hesitated for a moment, but took it. Their hands clasped, and Will pulled him in for an awkward hug on the fire escape. Kirk returned it.

"Oh, that reminds me." Will pulled back. "I'm proposing to Tina again. You'll still be my best man, right?"

"Will, I'm… I shouldn't."

"Like hell you shouldn't. You're going to deny me of having a vampire as my best man? That's like the coolest thing anyone could have."

Kirk couldn't help but shake his head good naturedly at the joke.

"Please, Kirk? Help a brother out here."

Kirk laughed. "Alright, but I'd hate to scare away any of your friends or family."

Will scoffed. "They're fine, and don't forget. You're family too."

Kirk smiled. "Thank you, Will."

"Anytime. Now let's get inside."

Kirk nodded, and they headed in. The next day Will held him tightly and yelled, "I'm getting married!" Kirk was the happiest for both of them.

The next few weeks were a scramble. Tina still had many of her old connections from trying to put together her wedding the first time, and she used them all. It was the fastest wedding Kirk had seen come together that wasn't a shotgun wedding or a full elopement.

When the day finally came, Kirk stood beside Will as promised. He was self-conscious of the eyes that were on him, but no one said a word to him. Kirk was okay with that. What mattered was he got to see Will dressed in a tux, and Tina walk down the aisle in a modest white wedding dress. She was the most beautiful bride Kirk had ever seen.

Tina teased him later about crying, but she was crying too. Will swore he had never shed a tear throughout the entire ceremony. Tina and Kirk both knew that it was a lie, but it was his wedding day so they let him have it.

Even the reception, although small, was lovely. Tina had orchestrated it all. She had ordered the tables to be round covered in white linen and the same flowers she had in her bouquet at every table as a centerpiece. Individual lightbulbs strung from the ceiling, and candles were placed at the tables which casted a warm glow over the entire room.

Kirk was in awe.

Silently he watched Tina and Will dance. They were happy. Kirk saw it in their eyes and the way they couldn't stop smiling at each other. Kirk smiled too. He was whole heartedly happy for them.

All three of them had been waiting for this day for so long. Tina didn't want a wedding if Kirk wasn't there, and Will had agreed. Kirk felt bad for being the reason they hadn't tied the knot sooner, but at the same time he had dreamed of this day. He had dreamed of seeing them get married as soon as he heard they were engaged. And now it was finally happening. It happened. They were married, and Kirk was there to see it all.

"Dance with me." Tina had pulled Kirk from his corner and onto the dance floor. He nearly tripped, but Tina held him, and laughed.

"I've got you," she said. She placed her hand in his and held him closer to her as they swayed. He smiled.

"Congratulations," Kirk said for the hundredth time that day.

Tina hummed. "Yes, I am happily married. Now my only concern is you."

"Me?"

"Yes, you. Don't think I didn't notice you wearing another man's clothes the day you came back."

Kirk flushed sheepishly. "Those were just borrowed ones from…a friend's sister."

"A friend?" The way Tina had said it was akin to the way Abuela had. The thought of the older woman made Kirk smile. He hoped she was okay. He wondered briefly about the farm and the cows she had, and all her chickens. He wondered if she continued to pester Hernan to read her those infamous novels of hers, or have him help her knit.

Then Hernan… the white flowers he had seen on the tables reminded him of the white flowers painted on Hernan's dresser. The smell of eggs and bacon in the mornings also reminded Kirk of Hernan as he waited for the man to break out into song, but Will only smiled and waved with his spatula. It wasn't Hernan. Kirk didn't know why he expected it to be.

The song changed, and Kirk's thoughts were interrupted by Tina's long sigh. "I can't believe him. Can you believe my husband? He knows I don't like Def Leppard."

Kirk froze. Who?

Tina paused to look at Kirk for stopping all of a sudden, but then smiled when she saw the look on his face. She pulled him in again. "Kirk, go be happy. You don't have to worry about Will and me."

"But I—"

"Go tonight. I expect a postcard when I return from my honeymoon." Tina smiled and kissed his cheek. "Now that I'm married, my last wish is to see you happy too."

Kirk nodded, and held her tighter. "Thank you."

With Tina and Will together, married, Kirk felt as if he could finally let go. They would be fine as long as they had each other. They would be happy; they were happy. Now it was Kirk's turn to find happiness, and he knew where he could find it, or at least where to start.

He left that night.

* * *

A/N: Tonto - idiot  
Vete aquí, chico - Come here, boy


	13. Chapter 13

After Tina had tossed the bouquet behind her and left with Will to depart on their new married life together, Kirk left as well. He didn't carry much with him but Valentina's clothes that she had lent him. Kirk thought the least he could do was return them to her.

He tucked them underneath his arm, and hoped the journey wouldn't be long. He slept most of the way, and changed buses when he needed to. Hopefully Hernan was there. Hopefully he would be okay with Kirk showing up all of a sudden. Kirk didn't think he would mind, as he felt warmth pool in his chest at the thought of seeing him. He didn't know why. It was ridiculous really. After the way he had left him last time, Kirk wouldn't blame him if he didn't want to see him. If that was the case, then Kirk would just drop off the clothes.

It took him two days to reach his destination and luckily it was evening. Kirk could walk. He didn't mind. The walk would give him time to think over what he wanted to say as if he hadn't brooded over it enough on the bus. However, every time he thought of a word or phrase, he felt his stomach tie in knots. No, that wasn't right. That wasn't what he wanted to say.

Kirk continued to walk until he realized he was talking to himself. Even then the words didn't come easily.

"I'm sorry for leaving so abruptly last time." he grimaced.

"How are you?" God that was worse.

"I'm well, thanks. My friends just got married and I thought I'd just…" he sighed. He was hopeless.

"And you thought what?"

Kirk looked up, surprised at Hernan standing on his front porch. He was there. Kirk was there. Had Kirk really walked all that way already? Kirk felt heat rise to his face embarrassed as he hid his flustered features behind the clothes he brought with him.

The clothes!

"I thought I should give these back to you." Kirk held the clothes out for Hernan to take. Hernan rose a dark brow at the clothes, but a languid smile crossed his lips nonetheless. He stepped off his porch to take them from Kirk.

"Gracias. I'll give them back to my sister, although you didn't have to come all the way here just to drop them off."

Kirk averted his gaze sheepishly. "Well I…"

Hernan waited patiently while his blue eyes casted over Kirk, amused. He wore a Gotham University sweatshirt two sizes too big, and a pair of faded denim jeans. This time the pants seemed to fit.

"I must say, you surprised me." Hernan finally broke the silence between them.

Kirk looked back at him. "But you were on your porch."

"I heard your footsteps."

Kirk paused at the familiar line he used to hear from the other side of the vent. That was right, Hernan knew Kirk by the sound of his gait alone. It seemed it had not changed even after his transformation.

"Then I heard the beating of your heart, and next your voice." In other words, Hernan had heard everything. He smiled. "So, what brings you back, Kirk?"

Kirk swallowed, as he felt his blood rush, and his heart pick up the pace. Hernan was close to him, loomed over him that all Kirk had to do was reach up and pull Hernan down to him.

Blue eyes blinked in surprise as Hernan was clearly caught off guard, but he caught himself – or rather, caught Kirk – as his arms had automatically wrapped around his waist.

Red eyes looked up at him. They were clear, confident in a way he had never seen them before, and yet there was still a hint of shyness that bloomed across his cheeks.

"I was hungry," Kirk said simply, and Hernan fully accepted it. Truthfully, he did not care what strange reason might have blown Kirk his way; he was just happy to see him. He was happy to have him by his side again for as long as Kirk wanted to stay. Hernan was happy.

Then Kirk did the most amazing thing. He had leaned up to close the distance between them. He had climbed over his own walls he had built up around himself and kissed him.

It was chaste as it was sweet. It was not long, but it said what Kirk needed to say. Although, even after Kirk pulled away, his lips still lingered over Hernan's as if he had more to say. He had so many things he wanted to say, but the words never came. Instead he leaned in and kissed Hernan again hoping he could press the words across his skin. He hoped Hernan would know how Kirk had missed him singing, or reading to him at night. He had missed seeing Hernan take care of the cows and chickens, and sitting across the kitchen table from him laughing at a story Hernan told him. He had missed him.

He hoped Hernan could tell. He hoped Hernan could feel it through their pressed lips, or hear it by the beating of his heart. Kirk hoped Hernan knew his desire to be with him – to be happy.

 _'I'm happy when I'm with you.'_

Hernan kissed him back. _'I'm happy when you're with me.'_

Kirk felt hope bloom inside him, and warmth seep into his very bones. His felt his entire being grow light with Hernan's arms around him. No thoughts of what should be or shouldn't be came to mind but only that he had found happiness. Even if it were only for a moment, and he never felt it again, he at least felt it once and it was a happiness all his own.

Hernan kissed the corner of his smile as he felt a warm hand brush against his cheek. He welcomed the touch and leaned into it.

"So, is that a yes to Easter?" Hernan asked, and Kirk couldn't help but laugh.

"Yes, as long as Valentina is okay with it."

"She's the one who suggested it," Hernan assured him.

"Then I'd be happy to."

"Last question," Hernan promised. "Did you just come here to drop off clothes and kiss me, or will you be coming inside too?"

Kirk averted his gaze still embarrassed that he did what he did, but he nodded nonetheless. "That is, if you'll have me?"

"Nothing would make me happier."

"Then yes," Kirk said. "I will."

Hernan's fingers came to intertwine with his, and Kirk held on tightly. He held this piece of happiness he had found. Although he still had much of himself left to find, Hernan had taken Kirk's shattered life, and made him see that the pieces were still all there. Not just the old Kirk, but new pieces as well. Pieces he never knew he could have. All Kirk needed to do was pick them up.

He'd start here. He'd start with happiness. The rest of the pieces Kirk would find with time, but the way Hernan seemed to fit perfectly beside him at night, Kirk knew this was where he wanted to be; this was where he wanted to stay.

"Te he echado de menos," Hernan whispered against Kirk's temple. "I've missed you."

"I missed you too." Kirk found the words this time, and though he believed Hernan already knew this, the way Hernan's face lit up at the words made Kirk regret ever fearing to say them. He should say them. He should always say them for the way Hernan looked at him, Kirk couldn't help but return the smile. He couldn't help the genuine upward curl of his lips even when he found Hernan's pressed against his.

"I missed you," Kirk repeated. "I missed you."

He chased those retreating lips to capture them again, and again, and again. All the while, he made sure to say "I missed you" between each one.

Fingers blindly searched for his. They glided down his pale arm before lingering at the underside of his wrist where his pulse jumped in welcome to the touch.

"Te he echado de menos." Hernan's fingers intertwined with Kirk's.

Kirk held the hand tightly in his. "I missed you too."

* * *

Kirk had returned, but it felt as though he had never left. Little changed between the two of them, and yet the way Hernan's hands would find purchase around his hips reminded Kirk that things had changed.

Hernan still sung to him when he cooked, but then he'd lean in close to whisper sweet nothings in his ear. When they retired for the night, Kirk would lie across Hernan where he could hear the steady beating of his heart. He could hear the rushing of his blood with life, but not once crave to taste it. His cravings were far and few in between.

If he grew hungry, Hernan made sure there was something for Kirk in the fridge. When Kirk felt isolated, Hernan would wrap him up tightly in his hold, and simply hold him.

No matter who he was, or what he was, he wouldn't be alone. Hernan had showed him that. Tina and Will solidified the fact further and yet… the way the bottom of his fangs nipped the side of Hernan's lips when he kissed him, or the red of his eyes that looked back at him through the reflection of the mirror… it didn't feel right. It didn't feel quite like him.

His rational side of him said it didn't matter. The ones he cared for the most didn't care, and therefore he shouldn't worry about it, but the other part of him, whether it was monstrous or human, didn't know what he was looking at. It wasn't human, but it wasn't entirely a monster…?

"Kirk."

Kirk nearly jumped at the sight of Hernan's reflection beside him. He saw Hernan before he felt the man's chin rest against his shoulder, and his arms wrap around him from behind to hold him close.

"You're staring," Hernan noted, but Kirk only averted his gaze from the mirror. A gentle kiss pressed against his shoulder brought Kirk's eyes back to the mirror meeting reflected blue.

"I cannot see through your eyes, but I can hear the beating of your heart, and since I first heard it through the halls of that facility, the rhythm has not changed." a warm hand slid up from his waist to rest against the middle of chest where his heart laid. "Man, or beast, or whatever you see yourself as, you will always be Kirk to me."

Red eyes focused on the hand that rested against his chest. He felt the warmth that radiated from the touch as he covered it with his cold one.

"Thank you," Kirk replied, before his dark brows furrowed. "I do not know what I see... or who I am, but when I feel the beating of my heart beside yours… I know I am alive, and for now, that is enough."

"Enough, but not happy?"

"I am happy," Kirk corrected, his red eyes catching blue from the reflection of the mirror. "This… uncertainty I have has nothing to do with you, Hernan. It is a feeling of my own. It's something only I can change or remedy."

"And there is nothing I can do?" Kirk shook his head. "Even if we tried to cure you again, would that not help?"

Kirk paused… "But what about Waller? If she comes back then—"

"I can take her," Hernan interjected. "She is my own battle. Your chance to change back, to be happy again, shouldn't be sacrificed for me."

"Hernan." Kirk moved from Hernan's hold to turn around and look right at him. "You almost died. Your family… I… I wouldn't be able to live with myself if something happened to you or them because I changed back. I can't help you in my human form. But in this body… no matter how it might look, can."

"Kirk, Batman might have saved me that night, but you saved me many years ago from that facility as just Kirk. No matter what form you are, I know you will always be there, so please. If going back to your human form will make you happier, then let's try it. It worked the first time, then maybe it will work the second time."

"And if it doesn't?"

"Then we'll find another way."

"How can you be so certain we'll find one?"

Sure fingers found Kirk's as they wrapped around them in promise. "We'll find one."

Kirk nodded. Although he had his doubts, the determination he saw in Hernan's gaze left no room for argument. They reminded him almost of Will in their stubbornness, but the way Hernan's lips upturned was akin to Tina's warm smile.

Kirk held the hand in his tighter. "Okay, we'll find a cure together, if you let me help you with Waller."

"As if I could stop you." Hernan scoffed, which had Kirk smiling too. No, Hernan wasn't Tina nor Will. They would have stopped him where Hernan knew he couldn't, and for that, Kirk's smile only grew.

The next morning Hernan had the antidote he had given Kirk the first time, and like the first time, he injected it with a steady hand. Only this time, Hernan's eyes watched Kirk's every move. There wasn't a somber silence between them, but one of hope.

They both hoped it worked. Hernan didn't see why not, while Kirk wondered if changing the nanites would affect the way the antidote would work. He wondered if trying to change over and over again would strain his body in ways he never knew, but they both waited with bated breaths.

They sat side by side on the old leather couch in the sitting room with the blinds drawn and the syringe lying on the coffee table.

"We should clean up." Kirk suggested since his gaze never left the syringe. Hernan nodded in agreement and moved to toss it. As he did, Kirk tried to keep his thoughts far away from what might be happening within him.

His gaze fell upon the familiar room with sparse furniture and free of trinkets of any kind. That was, if one did not count the various news clippings of Alexander Luthor in the corner of the room.

"You never told me about your clippings," Kirk noted when Hernan returned.

"You never asked."

"I'm asking now. Why do you have him hanging on your wall?"

Hernan averted his gaze to the corner of the room for a moment before returning to his seat beside Kirk.

"Luthor was one of the scientists who ran tests on me. He was the one who told me I was not of this world, but from the destroyed planet of Krypton. I am the lone survivor that they know of so far.

"I've been trying to find him since I've escaped. I don't want to hurt him," Hernan added to placate Kirk's furrowed brow. "I just want answers. I just want to know who I am and why I was sent here. Whether there's a reason for my existence on Earth.

"I want to know of my mother, my father, if I had a family on Krypton. I want to know of the people and the culture that was my home planet."

"And Luthor, he will tell you?"

"I hope so. But first, I must find him." Hernan rose from the couch and walked over towards the corner with all the clippings. "These are all his mentioned appearances. However, the trail ends here, 2004, at a convention at STAR Labs. He hasn't been spotted since."

Kirk nodded. He had heard of Luthor going under. He was working on something ground breaking – the science world buzzed – but what he was actually doing, or where he was for that matter, no one knew.

"He was working with Waller." Kirk stated more than questioned. He remembered back all those years ago of who introduced him to Waller. It was Luthor. Had Luthor set this all up? Was Luthor the mastermind of all this, and Waller just a pawn?

"They weren't exactly friendly towards one another, but they seemed to be on some kind of mutual understanding," Hernan said. "What those grounds are, I intend to find out as well, but most importantly, Luthor knows more about Krypton than Waller. That is for certain. Why Luthor may be keeping this information from Waller is also important.

"Also, in order for Luthor to hide from me, he must know the extent of my powers, which I do not."

"If this antidote doesn't work, then perhaps lead is one of your weaknesses," Kirk replied which had Hernan looking back at him.

"Lead?"

"Hm, the nanites used in the modified version of the serum I took before coming after you were made of lead. They were able to counteract the cure made from your blood. They could very well counteract it again."

"I see." Hernan moved to carefully catch the side of Kirk's face before it could hit the cushions. "For now, it seems to be following the same pattern as it did before. Hopefully by the time you wake up, you will be cured."

Kirk's head weighed heavily in Hernan's hand. He didn't move to counteract him, but only shifted closer when Hernan leaned down to pick him up from the couch, and carried him to bed.

His vision grew blurry, as did his mind, but wasn't this the same course the antidote took last time? Perhaps the nanites really didn't affect the antidote like Kirk had worried. Perhaps Hernan was right all along. There wasn't anything to worry about.

He felt the sheets beneath him, and a warm blanket being wrapped around him.

"Buenas noches," Hernan whispered, and a supportive hand came to cover his. "I will be right here when you wake up."

Kirk knew Hernan would be. Before he might have not been so sure, but now, no matter what he woke up as, man or monster, he knew there would be someone beside him.

He closed his eyes, and Hernan was not too far behind him.

* * *

The first time he had the antidote, Kirk remembered a weight being lifted off his shoulders. Now, as he opened his eyes, he felt weightless but not in the same sense. It didn't feel like a boulder had been removed from his back, but it felt as though every burdensome thought that used to pull him down had been cut from their strings. The little monsters that gravitated his mind were peacefully silent.

Did it work?

Kirk was afraid to open his eyes. What if he was right? What if the antidote didn't work? What then? Gravity began to weigh upon him once more. But just as he felt as though he would suffocate, he felt a tug at his hand.

He opened his eyes.

Hernan had stayed. His warm hand rested over Kirk's, heavy with fatigue but the weight was comforting. It was grounding, pulling his thoughts back down to the small four corners of the room.

He was here. He was alright.

The bedroom was dark with the curtains pulled closed. Only the chirping of the crickets slipped through. He closed his eyes once more, breathed, and listened.

The chirping was shrill, and the hand in his warm. Mixed with the ringing of the night bugs was Hernan's soft breathing, slow and calm. He was sleeping. Kirk could tell by the slow thud of his heart beat. As slow as it was, as soft as it was against his ears, he could still hear it bounding with his own.

Nothing had changed.

Kirk carefully slipped his hand from underneath Hernan's, and left the room just as softly. But still, with every step he took farther from the room, he could still hear the hero's heartbeat, steady and strong.

It wasn't until he found himself at the edge of the front porch that his step faltered. The beating of Hernan's heart was a soft murmur, almost drowned out by the sea of crickets, but it was there. Just at the edge of his hearing it was there. If he took another step… it'd be gone.

Kirk took a step back. He wasn't running away; he didn't want to run away, but the beating of Hernan's heart, the sound of his blood rushing solidified the truth. He hadn't changed. The antidote didn't work.

But it wasn't a surprise, was it? He had a feeling it wouldn't, so why he found himself peering over the edge of the porch, and looking down the dirt path that would take him from this place, he didn't know. But the winding path looked daunting, and the drop from the edge of the porch seemed steep although he knew it was only a few steps down.

Kirk took another step back and then another and another until he felt the paneling of the house against his back. He wasn't going anywhere. He wasn't leaving. He didn't want to, yet he didn't make a move to head inside. Instead he stayed on the porch with his back against the wall, and his knees cradled to his chest. He stayed with the crickets chirping behind the tall blades of grass, and the soft murmuring of Hernan's heart. He stayed, counting each beat until he knew the rhythm by his own heart. He stayed. He was staying. Even as the crickets shrill grew softer, and the heart beat louder, he stayed rooted to the spot.

"Couldn't sleep?"

Kirk glanced up towards the doorway where Hernan stood. "No, not tired. Did I wake you?"

"No," Hernan replied. He went to open the door when his hand paused on the handle. "May I join you?"

Kirk scooted over to give Hernan room to open the door, and sit down beside him if he wished to. He did. He slid down the side of the house and sat beside Kirk with his knees drawn up, and his gaze towards the winding dirt path.

He didn't say a word. He didn't acknowledge how nothing had changed, nor how the antidote didn't work. He simply sat beside Kirk. He was close enough so if Kirk wanted to, he could easily rest his head against his shoulder. Kirk didn't, but Kirk didn't move away either.

They simply stayed side by side. Soon the shrill of the crickets gave way to the chirpings of the early birds, and the night sky grew lighter. The night stars gave way to the warm hues that streaked across the sky.

The sun would soon rise.

"We should head back inside." Hernan made to stand, but a hand upon his arm stopped him. Realizing what he had done, Kirk withdrew his hand.

"You can go if you want to."

Hernan paused but leaned back against the house once more. "I'm not going anywhere."

Kirk looked over at Hernan for a moment. He didn't want to read more into Hernan's words, but the way his blue eyes met his, Kirk knew what Hernan meant.

"Neither am I," Kirk replied, although before Hernan could add anything else, Kirk averted his gaze towards the horizon. He could have sworn he caught a glimpse of the upward curl of Hernan's lips, but he didn't have to check to know it was there. It was there.

Like the rising of the sun, Hernan's smile was warm. It was welcoming as it was forgiving, and it came with a promise that even with the darkness of night eventually came day.

Soon, the morning rays like fingers, stretched across the sky, and pulled with them the sun. The way the sun illuminated the fields reminded Kirk of that one morning years ago when he stood by his small window of the lab to watch the sunrise because someone told him so, and that someone was beside him now. He no longer watched the sunrise by himself; he watched it with Hernan.

"I like you." Kirk finally broke the silence between them. He could feel those blue eyes looking intently over at him, but still Kirk didn't look away from the sun.

"I like you not because you make me forget, or you believe that this part of me is not real – that maybe one day it will magically disappear. No, I like you because you see this part of me and you acknowledge that it will be there on the sunny and stormy days, and yet you hug me just the same." Kirk could feel the corners of his lips tug sheepishly at the flowing of words he didn't say the night before or the night before that, or even the day he had first kissed Hernan in front of the very porch they now sat on.

He wasn't one to say things, and Hernan never tried to pry anything from him, but at that moment… knowing that he was never going to change – physically that was – didn't mean his life couldn't either.

Kirk looked over at Hernan. His inhuman red gaze met unearthly blue, and Kirk knew everything had changed.

"I like you because you don't tell me to smile or to be happy. You tell me stay, and Hernan… I want to stay."

"Then stay." a warm hand sought out his cold one. A simple brush of fingers, and Kirk felt warm. It was much warmer than what he remembered sunlight to feel like, for never had Kirk felt home before, and Hernan felt like home.

-End-

* * *

Te he echado de menos - I missed you

A/N: Thank you so much for reading if you've gotten this far! You can thank the artist, SDeeyS, for the ending. She didn't get the smut, but she did get the sunrise.

This fic has been quite a journey for me, as I hope it was for you. Thank you again for reading, and as always, take care!


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